I just had a conversation this morning with a dear friend that is going through some difficult times. She made an error in judgment and her life changed in the blink of an eye. There will be short and long term repercussions, none of which will be pleasant.
Yesterday, I asked a friend how she was doing. She said her life “was in shambles”. She has a three year old daughter and is seven months pregnant. Her husband has decided he doesn’t want to be married anymore.
I received a phone call this week from the parent of a student to tell me about a diagnosis of a rare form of cancer, just 200 cases per year. Surgery is scheduled over spring break.
I believe that we may not be able to control what happens to us, but we can control how we react to it. It’s a lesson I’ve learned through some of the challenging times I’ve faced. It’s a truth that is reinforced every day as I experience more of life.
I know people that are negative, angry, judgmental and pessimistic. They fall in to victim mode when faced with adversity, blaming others and wallowing in self pity. They usually are not very successful at getting through the challenge because they are too busy feeling sorry for themselves and trying to find someone to blame. They flail away, digging themselves deeper and deeper into a hole. Frankly they are not very pleasant to be around because they want to bring those around them down to their negative level. I make a conscious effort to stay away from them; I don’t like the environment they choose to live in. And it is a choice.
We all know that there are going to be some bumps in our road, some unpleasant twists and turns in our life journey. We will experience agony and ecstasy, tragedy and joy in our lives. Now, maybe we try to hide this fact from ourselves, but the truth is bad things happen to good people. Sometimes we contribute to the occurrence, sometimes it just seems to pop out of nowhere.
Resiliency is the ability to cope with those things. It’s our ability to bounce back after being knocked down.
If you have been reading my blogs, you know about my friend Benita. She died a few weeks ago after battling cancer for five very long years. And this woman did battle; she fought the cancer with chemo, radiation, surgery. She stayed alive when the doctors told her it was not possible. She was a warrior in the truest definition of the word. She faced pain and hopelessness every day, every moment. Yet she continued to be positive and optimistic.
She didn’t fall into victim based thinking. She accepted the diagnosis, which she couldn’t control. And then she proceeded to deal with the challenge in a positive and optimistic way. Not to say she didn’t get down and depressed at times, but she didn’t stay there.
Benita lived a life in those last few years that inspired hundreds of people.
A friend lost all of her financial resources last year because of the economy and tough job market, battled cancer before that and went through a divorce. But she continued to look for ways to help others less fortunate. She is now working with the Make a Wish Foundation, a perfect fit. What a story she has to tell.
Things happen. We may not know why at the time, but later someone walks into your life with the same challenge, and you tell them your story. So what is your story going to be? Are you going to say “I totally fell apart, curled up into a fetal position and quit?” Or, are you going to be able to talk about the process. Acknowledge that it was tough, that you had some down times, but gritted your teeth and pulled through. Use your experience to teach and help others.
That is what our life is…a story. And while some parts of the plot may be a surprise, we do control the dialogue.
I told myself I wasn’t going to get emotional about this. And I’ve done pretty well until this morning. I think I’m going to blame the emotionalism on Kira. She planted the seed last night when she stopped by the school. I think the comment was along the lines of “you are going to be crying tomorrow night when this is over”.
I denied it of course. I might tear up when awarding rank to my students, but not about my own test. I have been in work mode these last few weeks, struggling to fit in personal obligations, staff changes at the school and final training for my test today. Yes, I have been stressed. Waking at 2:30am and getting on the computer to work out a new schedule or jot down curriculum ideas. Spending hours each day training with Master Dring or on my own, trying to get more repetitions in. I still don’t know what board breaks I’ll be doing. My self defense demo was put together in an hour on Tuesday. Many many thanks to Tom Genz, Brady Speers and Surya Cheek for their patience and good humor while I figured out what to do. I sincerely hope they remember to wear a cup.
I finished the newspaper this morning and allowed myself to think about this evening. Not the technical parts which I have been obsessing over (moves to the forms, self defense, shadow boxing, board breaks, sparring, conditioning) but the meaning of this test for me.
I found myself drinking coffee on the couch, tears streaming down my face. Thinking about the people that have been with me for the journey.
My first Taekwondo class in 1976. Carla Griffey was in the class. Now Carla Hazelwood, she is still part of my life and does all of the beautiful calligraphy on our black belt certificates. Jim Bottin owned the school and talked me into trying a class. He is my landlord and is a great resource of knowledge. Rick Balkin was in the kids classes I used to teach. He will test for Master early next year and is both instructor and friend to me.
Jim Robinson will sit on my judge’s panel tonight. He was my first instructor and tied my black belt on me in 1978. He inspired me then to push myself, to be tough, to not be satisfied with anything other than my personal best. He set the example. I never imagined that he would still be a part of my life 33 years later.
John and Allison Drew will be driving in from Dallas to be on the panel. Allison will spar with me, as we did when we tested for 4th Dan. John is now Master Drew; Allison received her 5th Dan a couple of months ago. Fellow school owners, but more importantly, friends that I know I can confide in and depend on.
Marcus Roby will be there. I didn’t know him when he was on staff at Little Rock Martial Arts, but met him shortly after I started training there. He has taught seminars at my school, driven from Texarkana to work out. So many lunches and dinners, laughing and talking.
Gerald Garbett. The “General”. A fixture at LRMA, he received his 5th two months ago. Friend. Confidant. How many classes, camps, seminars have we done together? Thirteen years.
My little sister Tracey. My closest friend. Now a 4th Dan. There are no words.
Master Danny Dring will be running the test. My instructor and friend. Week in and week out for six years he has put up with me. One of the toughest men I know, he has an incredible depth of martial arts knowledge. I’ve been honored to learn from him. He has also set the example on physical conditioning, the man is crazy. He was the second phone call when I found out I needed a hip replacement. I insisted on the same brand of metal hip that he has. He did all the research for me. Unfortunately it didn’t make my kicks anything like his.
I could write pages reminiscing about “the old days”. Too many people to list. But all of them in my head and heart.
Charles. Still my friend and supporter. He cut the boards for my test tonight and even sanded the edges so the board holders could hold tighter. He has always believed in me, pushed me to be better. He supported my decision to buy the school, helped set me on the path of whom I am today.
Joseph Jordan. We were to test together. Because of his back injuries I’m doing this alone tonight. But he will be there. He has been my friend, my partner. What an extraordinary young man he is.
My staff. Jackson and Kailum are the best.
Students and parents. The reason I do what I do. When I see the sense of accomplishment and pride on the face of a student, when a parent sends me a note telling me I have changed their child’s life, I know that I am doing what I am meant to do.
My “Peeps”. Kira, Tracey, Patti, Leslie, Sheri, Jill, Heidi, Jessica. My go to group of friends for lunch, dinner, “girl’s night out”, talks on the phone or dancing in the living room. All friends because of martial arts.
Tom Callos and The Ultimate Black Belt Test turned my world upside down. My UBBT team members set the standard. Tom continues to challenge me to think outside the box. Sometimes I fall flat on my face. But I know that this year of UBBT has made me a better person and a better martial artist.
Steve. My rock. He knows when to push me, and knows when to back off. He is the calm in the storm.
As I sit here, thinking about this test, it’s like a huge mosaic of faces, names, experiences. Some are dusty and from the past, others new and shiny. Martial arts have been part of my life for thirty three years. I could never have imagined how my life would be changed when I took that first class. So I’m going to head to the school, walk through the patterns a few more times. But I know the test really isn’t tonight. The test has been for the last thirty three years. And it will continue on Monday.
In January I climbed Pinnacle Mountain for the first time. I wrote a blog about it. I was so darn scared, hanging on to those little skinny trees for dear life while Joe Jordan hopped and skipped up and down the mountain.
So of course I had to climb some more. I wasn’t going to let my fear of that mountain defeat me.
I’m in better shape now than I was in January, and that certainly helps. The six hour hike in Hilo with Tom, Nevin, Joe and Michael gave me a lot more confidence about hiking and climbing. I’ve even graduated to the East Summit side of Pinnacle, also known as the “hard side”. I’ve taken several of my friends up Pinnacle for the first time, memorable trips with Kira, Melissa and Sana. But every single time I go up and down that mountain I’m scared. Not as much, and not as often, but I am scared.
Sunday I went up with my friend Steve.
Steve has done a lot of hiking and climbing, and is an incredible natural athlete. He is also very analytical and not shy about voicing his opinions to me. So it made for an interesting climb for me.
One of the things I like about the East Summit is that it is steep enough that most people with common sense would use hands and feet to climb. I actually prefer it because I have four points of contact between me and the mountain, instead of trying to balance on one or two of my feet while climbing. Steve and I did not take the same route up the mountain. He looked for the areas where he could stay up right and walk/jump from rock to rock. I just barreled ahead and climbed and crawled. We both got there. One of us was much more graceful than the other, but I’m not naming names.
At one point he stopped me and I got a bit of a lecture. He wanted to know why I was climbing the hard way. He said “you have the strength, you have the balance, you have all the tools. You just don’t trust yourself”. And then he did a circle, jumping from rock to rock, some of which were extremely narrow. He looked like a human mountain goat and I was incredibly envious. Then he told me, “you just have to work on the basics”. So I followed him. By now we were at the top of the mountain, so it was like walking across a level field of rocks. He deliberately stepped on the narrow and scary rocks, by passing the nice big flat ones that I would have chosen. It was kind of like learning to walk on a balance beam that is lying on the ground. No real danger of falling any distance, but it let me develop the skill of balancing.
So why am I talking about all of this?
How many times do I crawl and climb and take the difficult route because I haven’t mastered the basics. How many times do I wobble because I don’t trust myself? I have the tools and the skills, but for some reason I’m not willing to go for it. Fear of falling. Fear of failure.
Sometimes I can figure it out for myself. I can step back, see the problem, and come up with a solution. But other times…wow. I’m just climbing, and slipping and sliding, so busy trying to get to the top without killing myself that I don’t take the time to evaluate what I’m doing and improve on it.
Steve calmly gave me some pointers. And you know what? I was willing to listen to him because he obviously knew what he was talking about. I’m not willing to try to learn from someone just because they say they have the knowledge. He literally “walked the talk” on the top of that mountain. He got my attention.
At one point he had me balancing on a big rock. My heart was racing, I was full out scared and wobbly. He kept telling me I could do it, that I had the skills and the balance. But I wasn’t moving. Fear had me paralyzed. Then he held out his hand and it made all the difference in the world. That point of contact gave me the confidence to take those steps. Next time I climb I’ll find that same rock and try it again.
We all have the skills within us for the climb. But we have to work on the basics. And sometimes we need someone we respect to show us the way and lend a hand.
Thanks Steve.
And thanks to Tom Callos, Danny Dring, and Randy Edwards for being people I can respect and learn from. As I get closer to the date of my 5th Dan test I realize how much work I need to do on my basics. But I’ve got excellent teachers that I respect. What more could I ask for?
Filed under: Courage | Tags: fear of climbing, fear of heights, Pinnacle Mountain, UBBT 6, Ultimate Black Belt Test
This is what I learned Saturday:
I do not like rocks. I do like dirt.
I’m afraid of falling..
It is good to stop to enjoy the view.
Realization hit that I am going to participate in a four day, 40 mile hike the end of July as part of my Ultimate Black Belt Test. The flight has been booked. I’m going. And I’ve never spent the night outdoors in my life. Nor am I what you would call an avid hiker. Training for that event might be a good idea.
So I bundled up in layers, dusted off my LL Bean hiking boots, and drove over to Pinnacle Mountain State Park.
As I started up the trail I was giving myself a little pep talk. Positive thinking. Telling myself that this was great, I was outside in the fresh air, beautiful views, working out, training. I’d have a chance to think about some stuff… I was giving myself this pep talk because this was not something I was accomplished at doing. I was getting outside of my little comfort zone/safety box. Doing this because it was good for me, not because I really wanted to do it. And it was COLD. I hate being cold.
The trail is only 1 1/2 miles round trip. The sign at the trail head says to allow two hours. Of course I dismissed that time, the Park Rangers that wrote that were talking about the out of shape, the seniors, or the parents with kids. I would do it in much less. An hour, in fact, because I had to get home and meet some friends by noon. That was the goal I had in mind, up and down in an hour.
10:20 am I started up. Those of you that have climbed Pinnacle know that the trail at the beginning has a lot of dirt. Some rocks, but a lot of dirt. I really like dirt. I like dirt ALOT. Because then the trail gets rocky. And more steep. I think it gets more steep, I don’t know that for a fact but it sure feels like more steep.
I don’t like rocks. All I could think about was how much it would hurt if I fell, and how stupid I looked crawling up that path when it got a little tricky, holding on to rocks with my hands as I tried to figure out where to put my feet. I sure wasn’t doing much soul searching change the world kind of thinking either, I was concentrating really hard on not busting my butt on those rocks. It was scary. Now that might sound a little melodramatic, especially for those of you that have climbed Pinnacle. Especially for those freaks that I know that run up that sucker on a regular basis. But as I’ve gotten older, with the battle (surgical) scars to prove it, I’ve realized that I am mortal, and that just because my mind wills it, my body isn’t always capable of doing what I want it to do. I’ve got a much healthier respect for pain. Speaking of which, both of my hips were hurting. The left hip, which is a metal on metal hip replacement, was reminding me that there were still some weak areas that I needed to strengthen. My right hip, which Dr. Hefley told me four years ago was going to need to be replaced, was reminding me of that fact. And what was up with my lower back ache? My right knee was reminding me of the ACL surgery. My nose kept running too.
A couple of times I stopped to enjoy the view. That was the excuse I gave myself. It really was so I could get my breath back. I was so focused on where I should put my feet that I couldn’t look up from the trail in front of me. Beauty was all around me, but I was totally focused on staying upright and moving forward. The stops let me catch my breath, but also reminded me of how beautiful our state is, how fortunate I am to be able to drive ten minutes to get to a park and climb a mountain. And while my body was screaming at me, at least I was able to climb. To walk. To see the view. To hear the birds. How blessed I am.
I didn’t reach the top. The excuse I gave myself was that I had to get back down the mountain so I could make my noon committment. It was 11 am, forty minutes to get to where I was, about 3/4s of the way up. I sat on a rock for a while, then headed back down. Hoping I could make it in 20 minutes.
Climbing up on all those rocks was tough. Going down was easier, from a physical standpoint. But I now could see the trajectory I would take if I lost my balance. There were portions of the trail where the rocks were flat and I could easily step from one to another. Other sections weren’t so easy, requiring big steps, or even a little jump. Didn’t like those at all. Several times I’d step and wobble a little bit, and it scared the crap out of me. I don’t like feeling scared.
The only times I ever felt safe on those darn rocks was if I was sitting on one of them or holding on to a tree. I love those trees. The ones that are growing right in the middle of all that rock. The trees that have discoloration on them from all of the sweaty hands that have used them for stability.
I got to the bottom of the trail at 11:20. An hour. I don’t know if it would have been two hours if I went all the way to the top, but Ihave a feeling it would be pretty close to it. So much for me being so much faster than the seniors, out of shape, and families with kids.
You know what was really humbling? Getting passed going up by a young man carrying a baby on his back. Seeing a woman that had to be in her 60′s gracefully jumping from one rock to another going down the mountain while I’m crawling up . The couple that were climbing, each carrying a little dog. The guy with a grey ponytail and a golden retriever that passed me going up AND going down.
There was a part of me, the Type A competitive Michelle, that was thoroughly disgusted with the fact that all these other people were better at this climbing stuff. But there was the other Michelle, that was very aware of pain and fear, that was willing to slow down or even stop because it was the safe thing to do, even if it meant getting passed on the trail. Of course, no one on that trail knew who I was, which I kept reminding myself of everytime I stopped or was passed.
I started to beat my self up for not accomplishing my goal of reaching the top. For needing to stop. For being afraid.
As I was driving home I realized a couple of things:
I don’t like rocks. I do like dirt.
I don’t like rocks when I have to walk on them. It can be scary because I know I can fall and they will hurt. However, I sure did appreciate some of those big rocks that I could sit on. And the nice flat stable rocks that I could easily walk on. So not all rocks are bad. Navigating continuous rocks on the trail made me really appreciate the dirt trail. I LOVED those portion of the trail that had dirt. I even made it a point to step in little crevices between rocks just to be on dirt. I don’t like the rocky places in life, because I know I can fall and get hurt. But if I don’t experience “rocks “in my life, I don’t appreciate the nice, easy “dirt”
I’m afraid of falling. Which means I’ve developed enough wisdom to understand the cause and effect of actions and consequences. My heart skipped some beats several times on my hike. When I was in that fearful state I was extremely focused on where I placed each foot. I need to face that fear if I’m going to conquer it.
Stop and enjoy the view. I couldn’t see the beauty that was all around me when I was focused just on the trail in front of me. Stopping and enjoying the view let me get my breath too. How many times have I missed the beauty that was right in front of my face because I had my head down? How many opportunities to give love or receive love have I lost because I wouldn’t stop and enjoy the view, the person. To be in the moment?
I’m going to give myself a day or two to recover, and then I’m heading up Pinnacle again. Stay tuned. If you don’t hear from me soon, check the side of the mountain, I may be hanging on to a tree looking for dirt!
View from Pinnacle
