A Little Bit About Me, and Why All The Martial Arts Metaphors?

Until recently, my journey on Steem was mine alone.

Now that I've turned toward building the community here, I realize I am once again facing the unknown. The courteous thing to do is to introduce myself.
_{Image edited from original artwork by begemott on deviantart}

A Journey of Fourty Years

Yep, I'll turn 40 this year. For almost 20 of those years, martial arts has been a part of my identity. I did not begin that journey intentionally. Two decades ago, I started taking classes for fun and exercise. If I gained some practical self-defense skills in the process, I considered that a bonus.

I was looking for something I could not yet articulate. When I was growing up, I was deeply committed to gymnastics and ballet. Small for my age, shy, and not especially coordinated, I felt deeply inadequate in team sports - but practicing these individual pursuits, I thrived. Training was exhilarating, it dampened my shyness, and gave me a chance to prove myself - to myself.

I knew I needed to fill the hole left by these physical activities. I knew that exercise kept me sane, without it I was less focused, more nervous, and generally more unhappy with life. What I didn't know, at age 25, was the vital importance of pursuing mastery. When I met my first Sensei, I told him I had no plans to pursue a black belt. It was too late; I was too old, and not likely to reach the level of fitness and skill required.

I don't recall my Sensei even pointing out that he began training at 50, twice the age of the young girl who now stood in the dojo before him. It wouldn't have mattered - no one can tell you where your journey will take you.

_{My first teacher, Barry Sensei, training with my current teacher, Janice Sensei.}

A Student and A Teacher

People often talk about "lifelong learning." We assume it's a positive thing, but rarely do we examine what "learning" entails. How often, as adults, do we put ourselves into situations where we have no experience or habits to draw from, where we don't really know what to expect or what actions to take? It is very uncomfortable, and most adults do not put themselves in such situations voluntarily. If we aren't forced into learning a new skill because of some life change, we generally don't do it. Or, like the 25-year-old me tentatively dabbling in martial arts, we shield ourselves in the armor of dispassion. If I step outside my comfort zone, dislike it, and retreat, it isn't failure because I didn't really need or want that anyway.

There are many arts which offer the pursuit of mastery. Activities which deepen the more you practice them, offering that crucial sense of development and accomplishment, but are never completed, never perfected: physical practices, craftsmanship, visual arts, writing. Aikido filled the void left behind when I moved from childhood, when we are encouraged to pursue such things without needing a defined goal, to adulthood, when we expect ourselves to know where we are going.

My teacher passed away nearly two years ago. Finally, I was required to make the choice I had resisted from the start: are you willing to commit to this? Knowing that you will have to invest time, and energy, and resources, and risk failure? For me, the answer was yes. I purchased the business from my late teacher's wife, and dedicated as much as I can to continue developing what my teacher and my fellow students have built. Leading the dojo is an entirely different learning process. I have to face those questions and make my choice every day. The only settled question is whether or not it matters. I am invested - the risk of failure can no longer be avoided by acting like I don't care.

I wrote about this transition last year:
https://www.steeve.app/@wholeself-in/on-loss-and-growth-part-1
https://www.steeve.app/@wholeself-in/on-loss-and-growth-part-2

The Steemit Dojo

Though condensed into 18 months, my journey on Steem has many parallels to my martial arts journey. I began it simply dabbling, not caring much how it turned out. I did not want to invest much effort or money. Yet curiousity led to sincere interest, and soon I began to feel a sense of accomplishment. I got a @curie upvote! I won a contest! I saw my account begin to build. I found myself more willing to invest. I don't just mean that I saw rewards and I wanted more of that. I mean, on Steem it was immediately clear that what I get out of it is directly linked to what I put into it, and I wanted more of that.

To make that connection, there must be a balance. Your experience here must immediately reward you with curiosity, fun, and at least a hint of what you will be able to develop and build. And, to have meaning it must also demand something of you. Something just out of your reach, until you work at it. These are the best rewards - the ones that motivate you to reach further and do more the next time.

If you have been frustrated, or unsure just how well your investment in Steem will turn out, you are in good company along with nearly everyone here. One thing about the pursuit of mastery: these questions never really go away, you just move into a broader comfort zone.

Want to Earn Your Steemit Black Belt?

Start Here: Your First Week In the Steemit Dojo

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