Karate from an Outsider’s Perspective: It Turns Out It’s Not All “Hiiii-yah!”
My name is Lauren Balogh, and I am a karate virgin.
Yep, that’s right. I said it. I’ve never done karate.
Which made it particularly interesting when, almost four years ago, I started dating my boyfriend, a practitioner of Okinawa Kenpo Karate and Kobudo. I wasn’t sure what that meant, or what that meant for the relationship I was about to get into. Was he going to hit me? If he got mad, was he capable of killing me?
I knew a few guys that practiced martial arts around the college campus that we attended. They were mostly into MMA, which was crawling into the general public’s awareness at that time. What I knew of MMA was scary—a bunch of rough looking dudes who had a bone to pick (evidently a pretty big one) with other rough looking dudes beat the life out of each other, leaving teeth and blood in their wake. I kind of assumed this is what all martial arts were like, and figured maybe this wasn’t something I was looking to bring into my life.
But my boyfriend (who shall remain unnamed) changed that. Well…maybe not right away. A few dates in, while hanging out with friends, he showed me a self-defense move that put my right arm in quite the awkward—and mildly painful—position. But he didn’t do it out of anger, nor did he hold it for long. After my first surprised “ow!” he let go, and never did it again. My admittedly vague opinion of karate was already beginning to change.
A few more dates in, he showed me some self-defense moves. At the time, we both lived in a not-exactly-family-friendly part of town, and he wanted me to be able to get out of a bad situation if I needed to. “But isn’t karate about bringing down your attacker and stuff?” I remember asking, confused. No, he explained. Karate is about finding a way out; it’s about defense, not aggression. “Well what about those MMA guys on campus and on TV who are always kicking the crap out of each other?” I then witnessed the first of many eye rolls my boyfriend would direct toward pop culture’s MMA. Still, I wasn’t ready to believe that the martial arts weren't all “hiiiiii-yah!” and beating up bad guys.
It wasn’t until I saw my boyfriend in action that I really grasped the “arts” portion of the term “martial arts.” There really was nothing aggressive about it. Sure, he had a variety of weapons in his hands that he was wielding toward other people. But it was almost a kind of moving meditation; a conversation of limbs between two highly skilled people. The surprising lack of aggression really forced my perception of karate and the martial arts to change that night. I started seeing the martial arts, as, well, an art.
Watching him practice karate and kobudo gave me some perspective on understanding and acceptance. I watched him deftly handle people flying at him with swords and screaming, blocking their blows and maneuvering easily. He had to know exactly what his body was doing, and was capable of, at all times, otherwise the exercise could end pretty badly. He showed patience and understanding of his body, and had the willpower to focus his mind completely on what he was doing. He showed understanding and acceptance of his capabilities, and I admired him for it.
I was learning that it was all about discipline, not frustration. He wasn’t doing karate because he lacked of control of his emotions, he was doing as a way of controlling his emotions. Karate and the martial arts in general were not the flashy, backflip-heavy fight fest I thought it was—it was a tool for bringing out the best in people, both mentally and physically.
I may not know how to defend myself from a bo using sai (that actually kind of sounds like a bad idea), but I can say that after four years, my perspective of karate and the martial arts in general has changed drastically. When someone says they practice the martial arts, I no longer automatically picture one MMA dude punching another MMA dude until he’s unconscious—I now admire the person for showing such discipline and dedication to an ancient art. I don’t jump to the assumption that they are the bad guy, running up walls and roundhouse kicking people in the face. While I’m not exactly seeing karate from the inside, I can now say I can see it a little clearer—and I like what I’m seeing.
Relief
Filed under: Mental Strain for Mama, Tales from the dojo
Last night Big I auditioned for a play. She did one of these productions two summers ago and it was grueling. They practice Monday through Thursday, 6-9 and the director is very serious about the play. Although the kids love her when it's all over, during the actual process of getting ready, even the parents are sometimes on edge. It's a lot of work and it's a lot of stress.
When Big I did it before, it felt like our summer was gone. After five weeks of non-stop rehearsing and then a weekend of performing, we had a month left before school started. Still, if Big I enjoys acting and singing, then I thought I shouldn't deprive her of the opportunity.
Auditions started at 6 last night and after dancing, singing, and acting portions, she was finally finished at 9 p.m. It was a very long night.
I took her to the audition and they started with dancing. The only thing I could compare this part of the audition to, would be like someone showing you a kata two times and then asking you to do it on your own. The poor kid had trouble following along and I wanted to just whisk her off the stage and erase her memory of it. Fortunately she wasn't the only one having trouble. Dancing like a marionette isn't going to happen after a mere 10 minutes of instruction.
Then came singing. I stayed for half of it and then headed out to the dojo. Mr. BBM said her group of four did well and for that I was relieved. Mr. BBM said she also did well reading her lines for the acting portion. He said she read every word perfectly and you could hear her, but she didn't really "act" it out so much. Keep in mind that the youngest allowed to audition is eight. Big I is eight.
On the way home from auditions, she told Mr. BBM she had a dilemma. She knows that if she does this play, she can forget leisurely evenings at the pool. She can forget doing tennis or swim lessons; and she's going to have to miss a week of ju-jutsu too. She decided that she's not going to do it this summer. Instead she thought she'd audition for the spring play. To say I'm relieved would be the understatement of the century. The month of June is already packed for us; rehearsals every night would just about kill us.
I have to give the kid props though. I doubt I would have had the guts to get up there the way she's done twice, once when she was only 6 years old!
I'm relieved that we'll have our summer back, but now I'm looking for relief of another kind.
Yesterday, I was looking for something in the basement, moved a box without moving the ones in front of it and tweaked my lower back. If I'm standing I'm fine. If I lay down I'm fine; but sitting is a different story.
I walked in to karate last night and told Big I's Danzan Ryu Ju-Jutsu instructor who was teaching downstairs that I was hurting and he disappeared outside to his car. He came back in with a chinese analgesic that you rub on your sore spot and wait to dry. He gave strict instructions for me to pass along to Mr. BBM when putting it on me, "Don't touch your eyes and don't 'adjust' yourself until after you wash your hands." I woke Mr. BBM up last night when I rolled in from the dojo around 11 p.m. to put it on me.
Today I feel slightly better but not much. Sitting is still killing me. What I love about Big I doing ju-jutsu is that Danzan Ryu practitioners learn how to hurt people, but they also learn the healing arts. It's an interesting combination and one that Big I's Sensei takes very seriously. He told me that if I'm not better soon, he'd work on my back a bit.
In Kyoshi Bill Hayes' book "My Journey with the Grandmaster" he talks about training hard and then going to get fixed back up with long soaks and massage. I can't help feeling like this should be a crucial part of modern day training. Maybe those sore spots wouldn't happen as often and maybe that was the key to longevity in the arts.
If I could just convince Mr. BBM to go get certified in the healing arts. . .
The Banshee at the Pool
I was going to write a post about things that annoy me, but then Mr. BBM reminded me that I would probably need a book for that topic. It's true. I get annoyed easily, but I'm fairly certain it's justified on most ocassions.
Yesterday, we spent the day relaxing at the pool. Big I was off playing with a friend. I can't even tell you how much I'm enjoying the age of eight, where she can go off on her own and I don't have to worry all the time. Lil C brought some mermaid barbie dolls and stuff to play with in the pool and I was hanging out with her at water's edge while she played and shared her dolls with her friends.
The mermaid dolls were popular and we were soon surrounded by a ton of kids each eager to have a look and more importantly, a turn.
One little girl in particular came over and immediately grabbed one of the Ariel mermaid dolls and started playing with it. We have two of them and as soon as the other one was put down for a second she picked that one up too. This child couldn't have been more than two years old. She was having a good time when she set one of the dolls down and Lil C's friend picked it up.
When the little girl realized she didn't have both Ariel dolls, she completely freaked out. I have two little girls and I know all about screaming, but I have never heard a child scream like that, ever. The sound was so shrill and piercing that I thought she was going to pop my ear drums. I kindly pointed out to her that she already had a doll, that they were the same, and that she needed to share (especially since the dolls weren't even hers).
She screamed louder in my face and then grabbed my forearm with her hand and pinched me as hard as she could. I removed her hand and told her that wasn't nice. You'd think her mother would have done this, but instead her mother just stood there while her child screamed directly in my ear and the mother told me "she doesn't like to share. None of my kids do," like this fact makes it ok that her kid is being a total jerk and that she's doing nothing about how her child is acting.
As Lil C's friend walked by with the doll, she went at him and hit him. This particular friend has no problem standing up for himself and he landed a nice kick right on her shin. The little girl screamed louder and grabbed my arm to pinch again. Clearly this kid has some anger issues. I was starting to feel like I was going to have some anger issues as well.
Meanwhile, the mother walks away, leaving her small screaming like a banshee child in my care, right at waters edge. Having been a lifeguard for four years, you would never find me leaving my child alone at the edge of the pool. Never. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I had to grab little arms and pull kids up who had slipped in the shallow water, faces just under the surface, while their parents chatted nearby.
I watched the woman walk completely around to the other side of the big pool while the little girl still screamed in my ear. I started contemplating dunking her. I'm not a horrible person, but my ear drums were seriously about to explode. Lil C's friend would walk over to the screaming kid every once in a while and yell "No!" at her. I clearly wasn't the only one irritated.
After being pinched twice and feeling like I would never hear right again, I told Mr. BBM he was on duty and walked back to where my neighbors and I were sitting. They handed me a beer.
I'm the parent who tells my kids to play with their own toys and to leave other kid's toys alone. I would never let my child take someone else's doll and then let her stand there and scream like that. Had that been Lil C, I would have handed the doll back immediately and walked my kid away, somewhere where she wasn't annoying everyone within a 30 ft. radius. And if she didn't stop? I would have gone home.
I started thinking maybe it was the Mom who needed to be dunked.
The little girl kept Lil C's doll for a good hour. Her Mom finally returned it as they were getting ready to leave; and I decided we won't be getting the mermaids out at the pool anymore, at least not when she's there.
The only thing worse than an annoying kid is an equally, if not more so, annoying parent.
Why You Shouldn’t EVER Give Your Little Ones Hard Candy
After a sweaty but productive morning at karate, we went to the country club across the street from our neighborhood today and joined. As we were heading to the car after joining and talking about going home and changing into our swim suits, Lil C put a hard candy in her mouth that the woman had given her inside.
The next thing I knew, she was choking.
At first she was coughing a bit, but I could tell she was having trouble. Then she stopped coughing and there was no sound, only the startled look on her face that was also now on my face. I grabbed her and gave her the heimlich maneuver and she started making sounds again, managing to get out a little cough here and there. But it was like the candy would get lodged in her throat and then come up a bit, and then get lodged back in there again.
I was starting to really panic, and Mr. BBM ran around the car to help. She stopped making sounds again and Mr. BBM grabbed her and gave her the heimlich again. This time she started making choking and coughing sounds accompanied by some gagging. The only thoughts going through my head during this short ordeal that felt like it was hours, was "What if it doesn't work? What if we can't get this candy out?" I started to think that maybe I should grab my cell phone and call 911, but I knew that no ambulance would be able to get there on time. We either got it out on our own, or she was going to choke and die. I was going to become the poster Mom for not giving your kids hard candy.
I picked her up because she was making sounds and I thought that she had swallowed the candy instead of spitting it back up. The next thing I knew, she burped this horrible burp, gagged and threw up the complimentary potato chips and pretzels and along with it came the bright red hard candy that I thought was going to take my little girl.
With the candy glaring at us from the parking lot, I cleaned Lil C up, and then started shaking. My heart was racing and now that she was ok, I felt like I needed to sit down. Instead, I knelt down and hugged her like I never have before. It was truly one of the scariest moments of my life; and I hope I don't ever have to repeat it.
Lil C and I have decided that there will be no more hard candy for her ever again. After spending the rest of the afternoon watching her play at the pool and not letting her out of my sight, and stopping to hug her constantly, I now know there is no such thing as a harmless piece of hard candy. She's had it a few times in the past few months, but she won't be having it anymore.
And Mommy? Mommy needs a martini. Stat.
The Nun and the Bomb Disabler
This week, Big I came home with a big announcement. A couple weeks ago, all the 2nd graders took a writing test. It had something to do with the state tests. The other day, they got their scores. Most of the students scored either "basic"or "proficient" but Big I's test didn't have a score on it. Her teacher made an announcement that there was one student who had a writing test so perfect that it had been shared with all the other teachers. She asked Big I to stand up and told her that she was the only one who had scored "advanced." Apparently, she didn't have a single mistake in the story she wrote. Not one.
To say I'm proud of her is the understatement of the century. I can't for the life of me figure out where she got such awesome writing genes though.
On the same day, Lil C brought me a Mickey Mouse movie she wanted to watch. There was only one problem; she had snapped the DVD in half. Later, when I went to put a different movie on for her, I picked up the DVD remote to find that she had also snapped off the battery cover so that it will no longer stay on. She was definitely in one of her destructive modes; and I was scared to see what would be next.
I didn't have to wait long. I opened up the powder room cabinet to get a box of tissues out and saw that half a box of tampons had been completely unwrapped, and pulled apart into their varying pieces. They fell out of the cabinet in a rush as if there had been a tampon explosion or something.
She is forever taking things apart; and Big I is forever trying to put the pieces back together. When the girls color, Lil C sits there taking the paper off of each crayon, while Big I freaks out and tries to put them back on. Lil C wants all the dolls undressed and rearranged. She likes to take their pony tails out too, which drives Big I to near hysteria. Lil C will take paper, tissues, whatever and shred it until it looks like there's been a ticker tape parade in the house, while Big I has a fit that there is stuff everywhere. Lil C is forever loosening knobs on drawers, and taking pens completely apart so she can examine the springs and guts of the pen. There isn't a remote or toy in the house that hasn't been taken apart and then put back together in some crazy way.
If someone were to ask me what I think the future holds for my girls, I would probably say that I think Big I will either be a nun or a writer/artist or both.
With skills like Lil C has, I'm thinking she will probably have a future disabling bombs.
***Do you have mad lip syncing skills? Even better, can you sing like an American Idol? If so, consider entering the Summer Serenade contest! Entries are due by 7/1 and more details can be found by clicking here.
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