Skip to main content

The First Rule Of Sensei Promotion...

Ok, blogging. Yup I had something to say. Now hold on, where is that laptop? Ok, now where the hell is my coffee? Great. OK, ready to blog. Am I still in the dojo? Or am I back in the dojo? Perhaps this is where I live now. Maybe a large coffee next time? Mmmm donut holes. Ok, get it together, you really had something you wanted to share with all your fine readers. Who is that small child? Ugh there's class today?

What day is it again?

If you were hoping for all the details of last night's Sensei/Kyoshi promotion I apologize. But as they say, what happens at Sensei promotion....So I won't tell you about the bear. Or the blue thing. Or what Shihan Monte's pajamas look like.

Here, have a photo!


Photo

Yes that is a clock reading 12:25. In the AM. The dojo clock. From last night.
Where did that bear go? Does anyone have any fish?

Being a part of this experience was a little like getting stranded at sea for awhile with 10 other people. It is long. And cold. And a bit uncomfortable. You wish you had a snack. But, by the end of the evening you really feel like you know those people. You have shared stories. You kept each other warm. When the boat finally docks you rush out into the world, ecstatic to be free. But then, as you are walking towards home you suddenly realize that you miss your companions. Despite your cramped legs, stiff back and rumbling belly, part of you kind of wishes you were back on that boat. After all, you went through something together, something huge and meaningful. That kind of thing leaves an impression.

You know that movie Life of Pi? Where the dude was stuck on a boat with a tiger? 
Yeah, it was like that. 
Only with a bear.
Maybe.

All of the promotion candidates were awesome and I am so unbelievably proud of our two brand new Senseis, Rich and Ellen. They showed incredible poise and skill and really made the Upper Westside Dojo proud. 

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother." William Shakespeare, Henry V

We are all brothers now. 
Osu!
.
.
.
Anyone have a bear trap I can borrow?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Ronda Rousey

I am not into celebrities. If you want to know what Snooki named her baby, or who in Tinseltown got married and divorced this weekend, don't ask me. I do not consider the people prancing around on my television role models for my daughter, representatives for women-kind, or at all relevant to real life in any way. So twerk away Miley, I do not care. But I am a martial artist. I learn arm bars and rear naked chokes. I throw punches and knee kicks. I work on traditional katas and do pushups and try to pass the guard and sweet Jesus, I even occasionally throw low kicks which other people check with their shins. (  http://www.latimes.com/sports/la-sp-ufc-20131229,0,7356884.story#axzz2os6WWXVl ) I am not a professional fighter. But I am a woman who loves to fight. And as such, I was thrilled when Dana White finally allowed female fighters into the Octagon. Seeing you armbar Liz Carmouche was incredible. And I could watch you Judo toss people onto the mat all da...

November 20th

I am going to tell you a secret.  The name of your school does not matter. The patch you wear on your uniform does not matter. The belt you tie around your waist, the color of your gi, the medals on your wall, none of these things matter.  All that matters is the sweat on the floor. Period. I am not saying that you should not be proud of those things. You earned them and they deserve to be celebrated.  I am not saying that all dojos are the same. They aren't. But none of that matters. What matters is that you did one more pushup that night. When you thought you were done, you did one more.  What matters is that you kept fighting, even though he had you pushed up against the wall and for a moment there you were pretty sure he forgot who you were. He certainly forgot how small you were, yet you kept fighting, or at least you kept your hands up and waited for the bell to ring. You didn't quit. What matters is that you went to class. When you would really ra...

Blogging About Promotion is Inappropriate

As a kids karate teacher I am often trying to get my students to not focus on promotion. Don't get me wrong, a new color around your waist is an excellent motivator. But I hope the kids will ultimately come to class because they love karate , not just because they are punching the clock (so to speak) on their way to a new belt. When I first started studying jiu jitsu it was all about the thrill of something new. I just wanted to learn how to do all these awkward techniques with their odd Brazilian names . I didn't care that I was a white belt, on the contrary I loved it. It had been a long time since I was a beginner. About 8-10 months into my training a bunch of the people in my class got blue belts. I knew I wasn't ready for a promotion yet. But still, when the woman who was my partner almost every day got her new belt tied on right next to me I felt a little wierd. Ok fine, I was a bit envious. She was definitely better than me, but she was not that much bett...