I’ve mentioned several times that I had the fortune to have had some great teachers who not only shared their knowledge but wisdom as well. Anybody can be an instructor, but not everybody can be a teacher. I think it takes a certain type of person to weave hard-won life lessons into a passion or vocation that is transmitted to others. You can usually tell when someone is really stoked about what they are teaching vs. the guy who is just there to do his job and get a check. You’re probably not going to recall or retain much from that guy. I still vividly remember the technical sergeant (TSgt) who taught our combat medicine course. Like many military courses, you got a lot of material in a short amount of time and it was easy to get lost. But our instructor, whose name I cannot remember, was really passionate about every bit of material, no matter how arduous or mundane. That’s because he’d been in combat, dragged dudes out of the line of fire. He had actually used a cravat (bandage) to cover a bullet hole, stitched gaping wounds, saved and lost lives. He and the other seasoned instructors made the practical application aspects of that course memorable because they brutally impressed upon us what could happen if we didn’t pay attention or act quick enough…somebody dies.
No one walking on this rock is perfect or infallible. We’re all going to make mistakes here and there no matter how hard we try. Nobody gets it right 24/7. Some people think they do, but they're no fun a parties. The instructors at that combat medicine course didn’t preach perfection; rather, they instilled in us the importance of doing everything possible to get it right. That’s a tough lesson to instill during peacetime. And while that particular course wasn’t mandatory, you kind of knew who was there because they wanted the knowledge and who was there to get the badge. I learned a great from that experience, especially to assess, triage, and make quick decisions without freaking out. And I would go on to use many of those skills in my personal and professional life. In essence, I am not perfect and I’m not going to be. The point is not in achieving perfection but always striving to do so.
One of my karate heroes is Morio Higaonna, founder and Chief Instructor of the Traditional Okinawan Goju-Ryu Karate-do Federation. Higaonna Sensei has dedicated his entire life to the study and practice of traditional karate. Donn Draeger, ex-marine, and master of several Japanese martial arts systems noted that Higaonna was “the most dangerous man in a real fight.” You’d have to know a little about Draeger to understand the strength of that statement. Now in his mid 80’s, Higaonna Sensei still has a daily routine that involves, kata, kihon (basics) and kumite (practical application). He has spent thousands of hours conditioning his entire body, hitting stone walls, striking the makiwara (a wooden post), weight training, running, fighting, etc. If you closely examine his forearms, you can’t really tell that he has wrists; it looks like one continuous piece of harden flesh…because it is. Decades of sweat, blood and determination, striving for perfection. But what I like most about him is his affable and gentle nature as well as his tenacity. I saw a recent interview with this world renowned karate master and he told the interviewer that he had still has a long way to go…”still not perfect.”
Neither are we. We are all flawed, though we do our best to hide it and/or ignore it. But we all have things to work, don’t we? Areas of our lives that could and should be better, things that we should pay attention to. But we get distracted, often purposely so that we don’t have to address certain kinks in our armor. And we’ve become really good at shifting the responsibility from ourselves to our situation, whatever that may be. “I have too much work, too much anger, too much loss…too much pain.” “I don’t have enough money, enough time, enough space, enough equipment.” But let’s face it, what we often lack more than anything else is desire. Let me share something I learned in that combat medicine course: Excuses are easy, accountability is hard. Accountability saves lives.
Allow me to close with a biblical example of all this. The box that contained the pieces of the Ten Commandments that Moses delivered to the Israelites was called “The Ark Of The Covenant.” Cue Indiana Jones. The Ark, considered the “Holy of Holies,” was placed behind a purple curtain in the Temple of David. Only designated priests could go near the Ark, a reminder of the separation between imperfect man and a perfect God. When Jesus died on the cross, the curtain was torn in two. He died because of our imperfections. His death did not make us perfect. Rather, it gave us the pathway to God, an open door and an open invitation. But we have to step past the torn curtain. True Christians believe that we will never be perfect on this side of the dirt. But we have the responsibility to strive for perfection in words, thoughts and actions. And in Christ, we have the perfect example.
Dave Magliano
Tatsu Dojo
Jissenkan Budo
Dojo Cho
Comments