Sunday, May 31, 2009

Our World is as Small as WE Make it

I live in a very small world. That world is self induced. I am not fond of people as a rule. I have been betrayed, hurt, and attacked far to many times not to be suspicious of human motivations. There is "good" in my world, but only because I am very quick to judge, and expel the "bad". My world is rigid, and my loyalty is forever. Given reason to remove loyalty, well that's forever as well. My world is black and white.

I am reasonably happy in my world, and face things that threaten my world head on. Perception of a threat is enough to cause me to lock in. I refuse to be bullied. I've taken all of that type of treatment and more than anyone should, and I'm done with it. Lets just say there is a reason I don't play well with others.

All this being said, the world is also small for it's own merits. Master Dave Mac Neil was here for a few days. He taught some seminars that were very interesting, and he brightens a room with his genuine interest in people. He was talking about a man he met on the plane ride up here. His name is Doug Spotted Eagle.

Doug is a prominent wing suit instructor. He was up here preparing for a wing suit seminar he is teaching next month. As Doug and Master Mac Neil chatted, skydiving came up. Back in the day Master Mac Neil was a diver, which is pretty cool. More cool is that both men were headed to the same town to teach something they are passionate about, and ended up having more in common than one would expect of a random traveling companion. People from different states, traveling to a different country, and having similar experiences. Small world.

It makes me think about all the people I shut out. Some I am better off with out, but others could be ones I have a common ground with. Something to think about anyway.

And Doug says "HI Dave".

Monday, May 18, 2009

May Long

It's Monday night of May long weekend. And it snowed. No big surprise there, it snows EVERY May long weekend. I always get a kick of the campers getting ticked off when they get snowed on.

What did you expect guys? You've lived in this country how long?

Yah I know, pleasure at the expense of others is a nasty thing to be amused at, but I never claimed to be a poster child of cordial behavior. Actually, I'm down right catty at times. I'll have to work on that.

Moving on, I spent Saturday taking a canopy course with Doug Fourth. He's a professional skydiver with over 15000 jumps, and a wicked sense of humor. I had a great time and learned some more valuable skills. Would so take that course again (and I'll take the swooping course next year I think).

At the end of the day, there was an opportunity to do something stupid. And hey, ya gotta know I'm the first one to sign up. Heres the story. Every year at May long there is a pig roast up the road from the DZ, hosted by "Sly". (I have never met said Sly, but that's another story) Anyway, it's for assorted bikers and their playmates. An interesting crowd to say the least.

The point, and yes there is one, is that the really experienced guys swoop the pig roast every year. It's the ultimate party crash, and Sly has more or less made it the high light of the weekend. (an unofficial hire) My involvement was driving the boys back from the pig roast, which meant getting a wrist band allowing me and the other drivers past the guards at the gate (you think I would walk into that place alone? I'm not that stupid).

Anyway, we were all packed up and getting ready to leave, when I spotted this guy pretending to be human. I'm looking at him, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me. He had long black dread locks, a long black goatee, a spiked dog collar, and horns. Yes that's right horns. Some sort of implants to give him the appearance of horns coming up under his skin. I couldn't believe it.

I turned to John, who is ex military and rarely smiles on his best days, and asked him if the guy really had horns. He gave me a raised eyebrow, and looked over my shoulder at said person. He promptly started laughing, a lot. He couldn't even speak. Then Holly chimed in with "it's like a train wreck, I can't look away". Realizing where we were, we kept it very low key, and then nearly wet ourselves on the ride back with the creative commentary.

My favorite part was speculating on the last time he looked in the mirror, and if he actually realized how the image came across. He was clearly going for Scary Evil Biker, and ended up with Trick or Treat! Though I am proud of maintaining my impulse control. The urge to walk up to him and poke him in the forehead was incredible. Horns, Seriously! I'm going to enjoy that particular fashion statement for years to come.

Here's to the human ego, a bottomless pit of entertainment.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Foot in Butt Syndrome

I had a talk with the San Shou class about dealing with difficult situations. The class leading up to this talk was knife offense and the theory of attacking with a knife. Where to strike, what targets will yield the most damage, what will stop the attack cold, ect.

Of course I felt obligated to give the disclaimer chat regarding our view points on weapon use. Learn it so you can defend against it. Respect the power and increase your ability to survive an attack. Weapons are not something we use, but they are something that can be used against us. Knowledge is protection, bla, bla, bla.

Then my mind wandered and I told the students of an experience I had a few months back about a bad situation. I was at a social event with a group of friends. Everyone there was a friend or someone I know. We are a big group and we all stick together.

Usually.

One of the people I know got a little stupid with me. He wouldn't leave me alone, and I made it quite clear that I was uninterested. I walked away, he followed. I moved to another group, and sure enough, Scrungo was there shortly after. Needless to say, I was rapidly losing a battle with my temper. He was about 10 seconds from becoming a nasty injury in an ugly shirt.

Then the inevitable happened. Nature called. This meant leaving the main group and walking in the dark, alone to another area. Usually not a big deal, but when you have someone trying to corner you, it can be interesting.

So I was faced with a choice, go by myself, get confronted by Scrungo, lay him out in the parking lot, and try to deal with the aftermath (legal and social) afterward. OR grab a friend and have them escort me to and from the facilities, and then to my truck when I was ready to go home.

I wanted to choose option A really really badly, but I instead chose option B. I grabbed my buddy, and drug him off to the bathroom with me. He naturally wanted an explanation, so I filled him in on the situation. He was confused and asked me what the big deal was as I could take care of myself. He felt I should have chosen option A as well. I told him that part of taking care of yourself was removing yourself from a potentially bad situation. Seeking help when needed, and keeping alert for dangers.

What I didn't tell him was knowing yourself and what motivates you is also part of taking care of yourself. I was angry, very very angry. In some ways I was hoping Scrungo would have a fourth go around. I was looking for an excuse to release an emotional frenzy on him, punctuated with elbows, knees, and high pitched screeching. I haven't been that close to looking for a fight, Well Ever. But I was that angry. I had walked away from just wanting to defend myself, only to embrace wanting to feed my temper and justify it any way I could. Not a good place to be.

I realized this, and chose to defuse the situation. Man was that hard. But I was able to remove myself from my ego and anger to find a positive out come. I glued myself to my friend, and when it was time to leave the main area for any reason, I dragged him along. When I was ready to go home for the night, you guessed it, he became my escort to my vehicle.

I could have chosen to allow my emotions to control me. That is exactly what it would have been, a choice. I chose to control my emotions instead. I made the decision to walk away, and be safe. The decision to not sink into an abyss of anger and vengeance.

So yah, the temper still needs work. But on the up shot, the control is still in place.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Remembering the lessons

I was talking with Sifu Masterson about teaching. She told me that in her opinion my teaching has greatly improved in the last 18 months. That made me feel really good. Sometimes I feel like one of the blues brothers doing acrobatics only to have some guy in the back row giving a pity clap. Can be kinda harsh.

But we continued to talk about it, and tried to figure out what was responsible for the change. She feels that I don't just answer questions anymore, that I am connecting more fully with the student and am better understanding where they are coming from. The only thing I can come up with is, I'm now a student again in something completely new.

How many of us forget the first lessons? The frustration, the fears, the uncomfortable reality of not knowing what's going on? Many of us are learning a new system as part of our UBBT journey. But this is not the same as being a new student. It's not exactly the same style, but it IS an arena that is still comfortable for us. It's a martial art or physical training. It's something we understand on a fundamental level, and we are confident that we will succeed. This is not what our students experience when they start with us.

I have been spending a lot of time learning new things. Things that are completely out of my previous experience. I believe this has been the change. I have remembered the lessons. What it's like to truly step into the unknown. To not know the basic principles and expectations. I have had empathy forced upon me, and apparently am growing from the experience. The irony is, these lessons are not coming from the martial arts, an arena that I am very comfortable in. They are coming from motor cross, changes in jobs, and of course my other true love of skydiving.

UBBT asks that we take our lessons out of the kwoon and into the world. I have discovered that I have to take myself out of the kwoon and into the world to achieve this. Something I have never really done. It's kinda cool how it's proven to be a two way street. What I am learning in the world has been brought back into the kwoon. It appears the results of my new found empathy are very promising.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Learning to be Average

I've lost count of how many times I've been told I don't play well with others. My family, my friends, pretty much anyone who's met me realizes that there are no surprises. I'm right there, in your face, all the time.

My mom often asks me "Do you always have to be so harsh?" My sisters have been know to say "Don't hold back Lis, tell us how you really feel" (can you hear the sarcasm?) Alternate that statement with spitting beverages through their noses after I offer an opinion, and you have the idea.

Okay, okay, I get the hint. Doesn't mean I'm going to change anytime soon, but if it makes anybody feel better, I am listening, and I do get it.

I have been thinking a lot of the "Mastery" assignment our students do when they are preparing for taking the Black Belt Exam. A cool assignment in and of itself. But what has really been striking me is the message that we create our own personal mastery.

I've always believed in creating your own destiny or mastery of said destiny. I have always strived to live the example, but have never really had a point of comparison. For the last 18 years, I have been surrounded with others who strive to achieve personal mastery. I unconsciously seek out people with mastery.

My skydiving instructors are world champion competitors (literally). My friends are strong willed alpha people, and I am always around people in the martial arts who's very being screams of self improvement. Is it any surprise that non masters make me nuts?

So back to being average. Lately I have been working with a new group of people. Nice people, but people who are contented to be average. People who expect me to be average as well, and to live at the standard they have accepted for themselves. I'm continually shocked when I'm told not to work so hard. Not to worry about it. Or my personal favorite, don't kill yourself, it doesn't have to be perfect.

Yah, actually it does. If you are going to do something, do it right. I don't care what you are doing. Writing a blog, organizing an event, or cleaning up bird poop from the deck. Take pride in what you are doing and do a good job. Okay, I know it's hard to have pride in cleaning up bird poop, but you get the idea.

I don't like being told not to excel. I accept that I won't always excel, and that there are things I'm down right pitiful at, but to be told that something less than my best effort is acceptable..... well that goes against the grain. I don't understand how to live like that, and I am having a very difficult time relating to people who think that way.

All I know is I don't want to look back and say "I had that opportunity, and I didn't take it" The things we do make a difference. We don't always get credit, or recognition, but the difference is still there. Many times it will be unnoticed or unappreciated, but it's still there.

My greatest fear is living my life and having not made a difference. That I wasted my time here, and didn't take the opportunities presented to me.