Joy is Contagious; grief endemic to the human condition

Each day of good health, therefore, is a gift. Every day spent in the company of a dear friend and loved one is also a gift. Karate teaches us to strengthen our bodies so we might have more days of good health. It also teaches us strength of mind to bear pain and recognize truth.

Yesterday, I participated as a judge in a promotion for the first time. It was a truly rewarding experience.

We continue to hold the bulk of our classes over Zoom. However, about once a month, health restrictions permitting, we meet in a local park for a socially-distanced workout.

During yesterday’s promotion, Sensei T felt it was important to meet in person. He offered me a chance to attend, since, as a newly minted shodan, I should learn to judge and assist in promotions. Sensei R was our senior officiating referee. The three of us met our student and his parents at 9:00am.

Go-Kyu Test

Our fifteen year old promotion candidate, TC, had clearly worked hard. His kicks were high and targeted. He knew his required kata well: Tsuki No, Yantsu and Pinan Sono San and of course, Sanchin. He had had personal tutoring from both Senseis R and T. I’d tailored a class and taught Tsuki No kata over Zoom for him. Last Tuesday, Sensei R. went over several of TC’s requirements. He was a yellow stripe, or go-kyu and tested yesterday for his yon-kyu, or green belt. The green belt is the first rank for an advanced student.

Sensei T led the warm-up, then we alternated running kihon with TC. While one of us led, the other watched TC’s techniques. Sensei R.’s eagle eyes were on TC the whole time. TC was sharp, following each technique, and did not show signs of fatigue. Afterwards, Sensei T had him do a couple of the beginning kata to warm-up, then had him do his promotion requirements. I led him through syllabus to his rank, the fourth kyu, also discovering in the process that I need to drill these for myself. That knowledge I will take with me into our upcoming Zoom classes!

Corrections for Cleaning: Evidence of an Advanced Student

Appropriately, most of our corrective notes for him centered on details: paying attention to his hikite hand, curving his foot out appropriately for sokuto or the knife-edge of the foot. Sensei R also demonstrated techniques for making sure your sanchin dachi pose is properly distanced: if you pivot forward into the fighting stance from sanchin dachi, then go down to one knee, your foot and knee should be about a fist apart.

After these, TC was required to do sixty push-ups, sit-ups and squats. Sensei T made the last 15 squats more challenging by having him do punches after each squat, and finally ending with five jump-squats.

The Fight Against Oneself: Developing Perseverance

Karate helps us develop a steadfast, unshaken spirit

A rigorous, eight minute tabata test substituted for his kumite matches. Sensei T had him rotate through a minute of each exercise with a twenty second break in between each. It was similar to the tabata Sensei R had prepared for my Shodan and Sensei T’s nidan tests. In TC’s case, he did bear-crawls, a round of punch-kicks, mountain-climbers and birpees. Of course, this test came last, after his exercises, kihon and kata had tired him out. He did not breeze through this test, but rather came to the brink of his abilities. We saw the moment, during his second-to-last and last set, when he slowed and truly wanted to quit. He was tired, out of breath and worn down.

Sensei R basically told him, “We’re not going to give this belt to you. You have to earn it!” Of course, when you work hard to earn it, you value it so much more.

Sensei T and I both called out encouragement. We watched him hit that moment when he wanted to quit, and we watched him push through it. He did this at least twice. I told him, “You’re climbing the mountain and you’re at the summit! Keep going! Climb on up there!” TC completed the requirements, tired out, but he stood tall to receive his green belt at the end.

Remembering what Sensei R had said to so many of us, I said to TC, “Look at you! Look what you can do!” I also said, “Normally, during a green belt test, you fight others during kumite. During your test, you had to fight yourself. You did, and you persevered!”

A Karateka’s Skill Reflects His Teachers’ Skills

Later, Sensei R told us how proud he was that Sensei T and the martial arts club had trained TC so well. TC’s success was a testament to Sensei T’s leadership of our group. In fact, Sensei R could see the personal style of his own student, Sensei T, reflected in TC’s execution of his kata and techniques. Sensei R seemed touched that I remembered and echoed to TC what he’d said to me and my fellow students.

TC was elated, and his parents were very proud. We took pictures together. We congratulated TC. TC’s parents spoke about how TC works hard and excels in so many areas: school as well as karate! I admit I was not surprised in the least to learn he is an excellent student at school. Given the tenacity and intelligence he demonstrates in our classes, I would expect no less of him.

I was elated for the rest of the day. Even while returning home, and needing to work the sixth day for my job (we’re in the end-of-the-year “crunch” cycle), I could not remove the smile from my face. TC’s accomplishments, and his and his family’s joy was simply contagious.

A Memorial for a Memorable Friend

Today I had another highly emotional experience: we remembered a dear friend, MM, who recently passed away. She was in her seventies and in the late stages of dementia. She and her husband, MW, who also suffered from dementia along with other illnesses, lived in a nursing care facility near her adult daughter’s home. Both our friend and her husband contracted Covid-19 in their care facility. Her husband survived, but she died within a week of contracting the disease. He is currently quite ill.

Her two daughters organized a memorial over Zoom. My mother-in-law, Miriam, and MM were childhood acquaintances and close adult friends. She gave MM’s first remembrance. She described their brief childhood acquaintance followed by a close friendship in college. Years later, Miriam and Richard, her husband, visited MM and MW at their residence in Hawaii. They had a great time touring the islands together.

Ohana Hanai: Family by Choice

However, shortly before their departure, Richard experienced shortness of breath and pain. Unbeknownst to them at that time, he was having a heart attack. MW rushed him to a hospital–and then to a second one when the first was closing. Soon after, they had a difficult decision to make: Richard needed heart surgery. MM and MW took Miriam into their home. Richard had the surgery, then needed time to recover. During that time, MM and MW offered whatever assistance they could. These friends cared for them during a time of great need in their lives. Miriam called them her ohana hanai, her adopted family. While this is normally reserved for infants, that experience cemented the relationship between MM, MW, Miriam and Richard.

Interestingly enough, Miriam’s story echoed through the words of others. MM and MW were rainy-day friends to many. Through their lasting kindness, love, and support to many, they had lots of close friends. MM’s daughter said she was a meticulous collector of friends and she treasured them like jewels throughout her life.

In fact, when my husband and I moved to Hawaii, MM and MW acted as our island family, too. As Miriam and Richard’s son and daughter-in-law, we were welcome at family gatherings, plied with advice, food and love. We are also grateful to MM and MW for their kindness. The memorial put together by her daughters was truly beautiful and we were honored to participate.

Karate, Love, Pain and What Matters

Having these two events close together: a celebration of youthful accomplishment and perseverance, followed by a memorial for one who, through friendship, made so many people feel like family, brings me back to one of the more simple truths taught by the practice of karate.

At the heart of karate, we find that search for truth. That deepest truth in each of us is simply the truth of the human condition. We are each mortal. If we are truly fortunate to live long enough, we will experience the devastating loss of beloved friends and family members. A short life of our own would mean great pain for those closest to us. Pain and loss, then, is part of the human condition.

Each day of good health, therefore, is a gift. Every day spent in the company of a dear friend and loved one is also a gift. Karate teaches us to strengthen our bodies so we might have more days of good health. It also teaches us strength of mind to bear pain and recognize truth: since life will end, ours as well as the lives of those we love, we must cherish our loved ones now.

This and other photos in today’s entry were taken on a family trip through Oregon and Washington State

Tuesday May 26th, 2020

Summary Friday to Monday

For the past three days, Friday through Memorial Day, a group of us called each other and other dojo friends. We brainstormed: proposed ideas to each other, vetted and debated each other’s ideas, asked each other’s opinions about how to preserve the dojo community.

We originally debated whether or not we could take over the building. Three people I spoke with had estimates on the rent that more or less correlated. Keeping the building during a pandemic that could potentially drag on, however, made less and less sense. It seemed to make more sense to let the building go, but preserve the community. How to do that?

At the beginning of Friday night’s karate class, Sensei also announced he’d been planning to retire, and the pandemic accelerated his timeline for this. That was another wrinkle: even if the dojo was able to continue without a building, what would we do if Sensei retired?

What do we actually want? We want to keep the dojo community together. Lots of legal entities could be suitable: an LLC, a co-op, a club. The dojo community still needs Sensei. He’s the force that brought us together and, along with karate, binds us together. So we want Sensei. He will retire, so we do need to form a plan for the community to continue after he retires. We need his guidance through that transition.

Short-term, we want to buy time. I also believe that, if we want Sensei’s help in preserving the community, and we want his guidance through this transition, we have to make that possible for him, given all that he currently has to juggle, and we have to make it worth his while.

My first response to the dojo closing was that this was a funding issue, and you solve funding issues with funds. Summer camps are not allowed due to the pandemic. No summer camps meant a significant budget shortfall for the dojo. Families are dropping out due to their own financial issues, which is further squeezing the dojo.

I just started calling dojo people I knew, and felt them out for how they were doing financially. If one or both persons were working, I just asked, “Hey, if we could get some money together to preserve the dojo, can you help?” I asked people to call other people, or often enough, they volunteered to do so.

Everyone I called was kind and up front about their abilities. And we debated: how best to spend whatever money we collect? How can folks help who do not have funds to put in? How do we keep everyone engaged?

We held a Zoom, defined our goals, and made both a short-term and a long term plan. The plan: see if we can hire Sensei as a consultant, and get some kind of organization in place. Quick.

Saturday April 25th, 2020

We had Kihon on-line with Sensei yesterday evening. The kids and I setup the laptop outside, like we had on Tuesday. We worked out on the patio against a backdrop of Trees of Heaven. During class, we did twenty push-ups, sit-ups and squats. When class was over, I did forty more: 20 knuckle push-ups “tricep” style on the concrete and 20 “chest” style on the overgrown clover. The clover is pretty soft, as long as I didn’t worry about bugs.

S was concerned about a wasp stuck to the back door. He thought it would build a nest. This morning, it was gone, but it had left behind a tiny little post, which I knocked down with a shovel.

We drove to Culver City and dropped off loquats with Mikage and Jerry. The kids and I stood on the sidewalk while they stood at their front door, and we talked. It was so good to see them.

Their dog, Cherry, can walk now. She’s elderly and had had surgery. They had been afraid she would not walk again. A few weeks ago, after Jerry had taken her out, she walked to her water bowl on her own. Her vet had also taken her off of a pain medication, so maybe that helped. Since then, she has been walking more and more. Jerry brought her out, and, almost as if to demonstrate her newly regained skill, she wobbled a couple body lengths in the grass then stopped to lay down. Her gait was that of a drunken sailor, but she took the initiative to explore, and seemed content. Her people were clearly joyful, as were we to see all of them once more.

Afterwards, the kids and I drove down Washington Blvd. towards the beach, then turned up Ocean and followed it into Santa Monica. From there, we picked up the Pacific Coast Highway.

Near Point Dume January 2020

We drove along next to the ocean. Fog covered part of the view and made the green, hilly countryside opposite the ocean, itself bursting with green trees, succulents, flowers of all sorts, feel like Hawaii. The kids wanted to listen to eighties music. On our first camper trip two years ago, we drove up the PCH, listening to eighties music, but we could stop and walk out into the sand. Now all the beaches were dotted with police cars, enforcing quarantine.

Somewhere past Point Dume, we turned off the PCH and headed inland, in the direction of the 101 from Calabasas. From the 101, we made our way south to the 134 and Burbank.

I should mention there was little traffic, except for the PCH. On the PCH, we were in bumper to bumper traffic with other folks, most likely thinking what we were thinking: they could watch the ocean from car windows.

I thought we had turned off the PCH onto Highway 23, but now I think we may have been on Mulholland Drive most of the way. At some point, we saw signs indicating it was Mulholland. That drive was treacherous: 25 miles per hour along hairpin curves and switch-backs, but also verdant countryside, bursting with unique plant life.

I told the kids, this drive will remind os all of how big the world is.

Friday April 24th, 2020

  • push-ups: 1:09 minutes, 30/tricep on the floor and 30/chest on a yoga matte
  • squats: 1:49 minutes, 70 squats, alternating with punches every other set
  • sit-ups: 2:12 minutes, 70 sit-ups, more upper abs in the morning

These are my times. Next week is my “meditation” week, though I will continue to run on the treadmill. The following week will be 80 sit-ups and squats, then I should move to 40/20 for floor and matte push-ups.

I emailed Sensei yesterday about this site. I hope he likes it, and is able to see it!

Oh, I reached Shannon on the phone last night. She’s fine! Such a relief! D suggested calling her at night, so I did. They don’t have kids, and, as D suspected, they were still up at 10pm. They were not upset that I called so late.

She was sick for several days last week with a fever, and received the COVID-19 test. Her results came yesterday: negative.

Shannon tried to check out this website but could not get it to load. It loaded as a broken domain. I may have left the site in a bad state one day last weekend. I should check it under a different user, just in case that makes a difference.

Loquats on my tree!

Miriam suggested taking loquats to Mikage and Jerry, two good friends of ours who recently moved back to Los Angeles, after living in Vancouver for several years. K loves loquats. She is originally from Japan, and told me once that loquats never stay in the grocery stores long there. They have a short season and sell out quickly. My tree is full of fruit. This will be my weekend: loquats. Picking, delivering, cleaning, preparing and and eating loquats.

I looked up the “shelter in place” order for LA County. Culver City, where Mikage and Jerry live, is fourteen miles away. Delivering food, however, is certainly allowed. Is there someone I can call? “Hello city official, I’d like to drop loquats off with a friend. Is that okay?” I may also simply ask Mikage if she is comfortable with me dropping off fruit, and make sure she wants them. I could also freeze a batch for her, and give her those when we’re allowed to see one another.

Granted, the idea of driving to another area is attractive: seeing different scenery, and just feeling how large the world is. I want to respect the order, however. I’ll ask D for his opinion.

Delivering home-grown fruit may be a grey area. Funny–if she paid for them, it would count as “essential” business since it involves food. I will just ask her. I can leave the loquats at her door step, then wave at her from the car or from the street, just like the delivery folks. She loves loquats.

I love my loquat tree, and love giving away its fruit. I like eating them, too, with lemon juice and honey, or simply as they are. They are a bit of work to prepare.

Well, that’s my timer. Time to pick!