Category Archives: thoughts

Progress not perfection

“It takes a thousand days to make a fist, a thousand days to learn a stance and a thousand days to learn to strike”. Its possible this saying isn’t shared by many martial artists, nevertheless its important to understand what is meant by this saying. You don’t hear this shared in many schools because it can be disheartening to the western mindset of ” I need everything yesterday”. If you listen closely and are fortunate enough to be in a school where this philosophy prevails you will hear it in every class, in one form or another. I have to admit that if someone told me at the beginning of my training that it would take over three years just to learn how to make a fist, I may have seriously reconsidered the whole endeavor. It is the kind of lesson that is self affirming. By that I mean you understand it to be true after you have realized that it took you a thousand days to learn how to make a fist.

In our school there is a mantra that is shared by one of our instructors. “Progress not perfection”, which is usually followed by “gradually and eventually”. Both are related to each other but they are not the same. What they convey is the attitude needed to excel at something like the martial arts. You do not develop proficiency in what we do overnight, it takes years and years. Years of progress not perfection, moments (long stretches) of frustration followed by brief flashes of insight and ability. One example that comes to mind: A student was working on an evasion for the better part of a year, in essence learning to move the head out of the way of an incoming fist.
Time and again that student kept getting hit, but one moment (and I was able to witness this), a fist came and the student moved effortlessly out of the way, no thought- just pure reflex. It was graceful, efficient, and quite amazing to see. That is progress. The fact that the student continued to get hit in the head afterwards does not negate the fact that the evasion occurred. Progress not perfection.
This is not to say we should not strive for perfection, of course we should. Its a worthwhile goal. It has to be done prudently though, with the knowledge that perfection is difficult(many would say impossible) to attain. In my decades of practice I have yet to do a perfect kata, it doesn’t stop me from striving to do so each and every time I practice.
Progress reveals to us that perfection is ever elusive, once you think you have gotten closer to perfection, the bar is raised yet again, the target shifts to a level that is even more difficult, one you didn’t even know existed before that moment. That is how progress works and that is why we never quit. If we do quit and settle, then we admit to ourselves that we no longer are seeking perfection, we have grown complacent. In our school we have a character that reads constant polishing. Each day no matter how brightly we have shined in the past we must continue to polish, remember it takes a thousand days just to begin.
strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

The potential of each person

Jigoro Kano, Gichin Funakoshi, Morihei Ueshiba, Chojun Miyagi, Masutasu Oyama, Kenwa Mabuni, Anko Itosu, Hironori Ohtsuka, Yu Niu and Ng Mui. What do all these names have in common? If you study any type of martial art you will be at least familiar with some of these names. What they all have in common is that at one point in time they were all unknown students.

This very short list is not by any means comprehensive and I deliberately left out names and styles, not that they were any less pivotal to the development of martial arts, but for the sake of being concise, otherwise this would be a post of names.
Each one of those mentioned above (and no they aren’t all male) has had a far reaching impact that is felt even to this day. In their time they weren’t exactly notable or even famous. Some of them may have been known, but most of them studied in relative obscurity with the goal of perfecting the art that was handed down to them. In their time, training was viewed as a normal part of life and was devoid of mystique, it was simply part of their make up and was done diligently and with intensity.
So how does this pertain to you? If you are an instructor, then you have to understand that EACH student that trains with you, has the potential of impacting thousands of others as a direct result of training with you. You should possess the vision to see that the student that trains with you each week can, if they continue, can go on to transform the lives of many others. Each of those named above understood that to be a transformational agent in the world, they had to be willing to sacrifice personal ambitions and desires for the good of the many. This is your role as an instructor of a martial art.
If you are a student(and this applies to the instructors as well) then you should be cognizant of the fact that each of those listed above were men and women just like you. Which means that everything they achieved is accessible to you as well. The only caveat being that you must possess the same level of dedication, intensity of focus and willingness to train as they did. Qualities that are not the easiest to cultivate, but that are not impossible to attain either.
Each person is a potential multitude. when viewed this way, every time you train, every interaction you have with fellow students and instructors will enrich your life to a greater degree.
Teachers open the door but you must enter by yourself-Chinese proverb


strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

Kumite- Why we fight


When I first considered training over twenty years ago, the reason was because I felt I needed structure in my life. I told myself I would learn everything I needed to learn, but I would not fight. I had come from what many could consider a violent childhood and at that point in my life I no longer wanted any more “violence”. As I progressed through the ranks the time had finally arrived to fight. I requested the opportunity to decline and was told privately that I was studying a martial art, and while the purpose of the art was to defend myself, I would still have to fight.

And so I fought, and to my surprise it wasn’t violent. It was however confrontational, not with my opponent but with myself. When we face an opponent in kumite, they become the vehicle for our inner exploration. Our fears,(the fear of getting hurt, of not measuring up, the fear of pain)face and confront us. How well we deal with these fears determines how well we can execute during sparring.

So why do we fight? For those who do not train or practice a martial art it may seem like an unnecessary thing. Surely you can learn everything you need to learn without fighting? Yes and no. Its true much can be learned without ever facing another person, or without ever making contact or being hit. In order to truly appreciate a technique you must hit something besides air. More importantly, its very easy to strike a target or a person, what is truly difficult is evading and inevitably dealing with the blow once struck. We don’t fight out of anger (although some do carry excess anger), which would only hinder good technique. We fight because ultimately it is where we can truly be ourselves stripped to the core. There are no pretenses,excuses or reasons that are allowed during kumite. You know when you have been hit as well as when you have hit squarely and with power. You are confronted with harsh truths- I haven’t trained enough, my techniques need work, he /she is much better than I am, the list can be endless. Rather than dwell on it we must strive to focus on the moment and to the best of our ability, fight. For many this can be the hardest thing, to let go the litany of reasons and focus on the moment.

It is not an easy path and I don’t think it ever will be. Its confronting and many tears have been shed on our dojo floor. Its uncomfortable because its designed to be that way. There are moments where it is physically painful and moments when the pain is much deeper. Through it all, kumite is like a forge, burning out the impurities until only the purest expression of your self remains. This is why we fight, this is why we return time and again to what those who do not practice a martial art may consider torture. Within the context of kumite we discover our limits and transcend them, pushing past them when we thought they were insurmountable.

The Navy Seals have a very famous saying-“The more you sweat in training the less you bleed in battle.” Its something that we strongly believe, nothing can take the place of training and practice. The more you train the more prepared you are. When you are prepared very little will take you by surprise, meaning you are in a state of readiness. That state of readiness is what we all strive towards, with the understanding that the path is soaked in the sweat of long hours of training.

It is through kumite that we forge a:
strong spirit,strong mind,strong body

Sensei Orlando

Being Connected


I recently was walking down the street when I observed a small group of teenagers. As they walked down the street they each had their handheld devices and were actively texting-each other. It drove home how reliant we have become on technology for communication and connection. For example, we no longer hand write letters we just text or send emails. Even though I was born before the invention of both the cell phone and Internet, I am by no means a Luddite. In many cases I have been an early adopter of technology that makes our lives easier. And while the world has grown considerably smaller and we can now remain connected globally, it seems we are remaining connected in an age of disconnected interaction.

This highlights the importance of practicing martial arts in such an age even though it may seem anachronistic. It is important to be in a tech free environment like a dojo, on a regular basis. Its important to have actual interactions,where social skills and the art of conversation and dialogue are required. Its important to connect to others on differing levels as you train together. Practicing a martial art also puts you in touch with history. In many cases, the art you are practicing is decades if not centuries old. It is transformative to be a living part of history. It makes me realize that I am part of a group of people who felt that the art I am practicing was worth preserving. That there were many before me and if I am diligent in the transmitting of what I have learned, there will be many after me.

This is what it means to be truly connected, to be part of something that is larger than you. To be the catalyst of transformation for others, one at a time. There are many times we don’t see the scale of what we are doing and how many people we have impacted until way after the fact. In many cases we may not see the entire scope because it can transcend our lifetime. However, it is important for us, in our quest to be connected that we not lose sight of daring to take on those endeavors that are larger than us, than any one person. Immersed this way we can always remain connected.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

Training and Deferred Gratification

We live in a era of instant gratification, so it’s something of a paradox to practice something that has no immediate outward manifestation of achievement. When I am asked
“How long will it take until I get my black belt?” A few things come to mind. First of all my impression is that the person is not very serious about training if that is the first question. Those of us who do train understand that achieving the rank of shodan, or first degree black belt is really only the beginning of training. The next thought that surfaces is that the person in question has not absorbed the lesson of deferred gratification and is simply looking for a symbol of status.

Most martial arts are long arduous expressions of countless repetitions done over a long period of time. If you do not internalize the concept of deferred gratification you can quickly become frustrated and disillusioned that your progress is taking so long. This way of being usually comes from not understanding that to embark on the path of training, you have to learn to measure achievements in the span of years and decades.

So how do we learn to incorporate deferred gratification into our training? One way we do it is by not rushing through the ranks. If you allow the student to progress through the ranks at a measured pace, not looking to the next rank but trying to learn everything that is available to him or her at the current rank, the focus becomes less an attitude of “what’s next?” and more an acceptance of “what do I need to work on now?”

Not every school adopts this philosophy, which on occasion leads to getting black belts in 2 years, or 8 yr old black belts. If that works for a specific school, that is their prerogative. In our school it takes quite some time to achieve a high rank, not because we feel it should take a long time, but because other aspects of the character need to be molded, prepared and reach maturity before the responsibility of a black belt is given.

So how should you approach your training? In the moment, cognizant of the fact that a minute is made up of seconds, hours of minutes, days of hours, months of days, and years of months. When you approach your training like this, time becomes irrelevant.

strong spirit, strong mind, strong body
Sensei Orlando

Why not Ichidan?


The term shodan literally means beginning degree, as opposed to the term ichidan which would be translated as first degree. It is a term used to describe the lowest rank of black belt in most modern japanese martial arts. The question I always asked myself was; why isn’t this rank called ichidan? It would be the most appropriate form of address for the first degree rank. Shodan implies that all the basics of the style have been mastered.

What was expressed to me by my sensei when I asked this question was, that once I reached this rank then I was ready to begin training in earnest, hence the name beginning degree. Let’s look at this for a moment. What I was told in essence was that all of the kyu up to and before black belt were basically preparation for the real training that would start once I reached first degree. It did not sit well with me at the time of this revelation that I would invest years of my life only to be called a beginner after attaining my black belt. However, it is typical of many martial arts, that the real training begins after years of learning basics. The problem (which I didn’t see at the time) was that I was approaching my training with a western mentality. I figured, in my youth and with ample doses of hubris, that once I attained the rank of shodan that I would have arrived, right? That upon attaining my shodan some mystical black belt prowess would be conferred upon me and I would have reached IT, the summit.

It was a rude awakening after my shodan promotion. I discovered firstly, no mystical transference of powers took place, much to my chagrin. Then the realization hit me, as a shodan I was expected to train harder, longer, and with more intensity than the kyu who came after me. I was expected to be a model to those who came after me, no longer was I given special consideration; the kid gloves were off, revealing the rock hard fists of serious training. Everything radically shifted overnight. The classes were longer and harder. The only word that comes to mind is grueling. When there was any question in our eyes (it would never dare escape our lips) the only explanation given was, you are shodan now, time to really train. So what were the previous years about getting to this point? Preparation.

The term is shodan because the mindset required at this stage of training is that of a beginner. You have prepared for however long it took you to get here, and now you are ready to truly train. In our school, for a few months before the actual shodan promotion takes place, the student must don a white belt again. This is not a demotion (how can you demote years of training?), but rather a symbolic gesture that prepares the student for the transition to begin yet again. Even though there is a white belt around the waist, the body does not lie. I have had the privilege to wear a white belt in other martial arts. I get questioned during class as to what I have studied before, because it’s apparent. The purpose of the white belt is to tie the belt around the students mind, that no matter the actual belt being tied around the waist, we are always just beginners.

I eventually embraced being shodan. I don’t think I would be where I am if I had not. I was recently informed by a Hachidan (8th degree) who has been teaching longer than I have been alive, that out of every thousand people, one makes it to shodan. I would add that the numbers of those who progress past shodan are just as small, because many become disheartened to learn that black belt is not the summit but rather the base of the mountain. What about all the ranks that preceded shodan? Those are the paths that lead you to the mountain.

Stay on the path, the mountain is usually just around the next bend.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body
Sensei Orlando

Reverting to Simplicity

I was walking down the sidewalk with my youngest son when he taught me a wonderful lesson. I was occupied in getting to our destination when he stopped. It was fall and the sidewalk was inundated with fallen leaves. He looked down at the multitude of leaves surrounding him, bent down and picked up two. One for me and one for his mommy. I asked him why he didn’t pick one for himself, and he showed me his pocket, which contained an assortment of leaves, acorns and other assorted “treasures”. Evidently he was much wealthier than I in the leaf department. What I learned from this seemingly innocent exchange is that I (like many of us) can get caught up in all the “extras” of life and overlook the simple treasures that surround us.

Some of the greatest pleasures in life are the simplest, a good book vs. one thousand channels. Water over the next super powered drink. Taking a walk as opposed to driving everywhere. The list is quite extensive. We have managed to surround ourselves with so much that we can literally be in a cocoon from life. How many of us have sat down next to our spouses or partners, watched a movie, but not actually speak with each other? In the larger scheme of things which would you weigh as more important, the movie or a great conversation with the person you have chosen to spend your life with.

Yet each day we are constantly rushing and moving towards, always towards something. So much so that we lose the moment we are in. In our training we have to, by nature of the training embrace the simple. Initially we learn the basics and it seems like a daunting task. After the basics are learned, the more advanced techniques are taught, what students learn is that the advanced techniques are built upon the basic simple ones. You must always revert to simplicity.

In our lives this is a worthwhile pursuit, instead of making our lives about the attainment of material things; let’s pare down what exists so we can appreciate the intangibles.

It is now winter, and there are no leaves on the sidewalk, but I still appreciate the one my son stopped to collect so that I can have a reminder to do the same- stop every so often and let loose my sense of wonder.

Live simply.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

Why wear a gi?

A few months ago I was a teaching a children’s class when a comment was made to me. The context for the comment was regarding the expediency of getting the children dressed quickly to maximize their training time. The comment went something like “They don’t really need to dress in their uniforms, I mean I know it looks cool, but it’s taking long and it’s not about looks.” I’m paraphrasing and recalling to the best of my ability. At the time, I didn’t lend the statement much weight (I was trying to get a large class in limited time), but the comment stayed with me for some reason. I started to go over why we wear Dogi or Gi for short.

I researched the history of the gi and found that it had originated with judo founder Jigoro Kano, in addition to a multitude of facts. Everything I found still didn’t answer the fundamental question as to why we wear these items of clothing. Was it tradition? What about all the arts that now sport many different colored gi? Are they somehow inferior because they have opted to wear a different color? To this day, I have not found the ability of any martial art practitioner to be contained in the gi, white or otherwise.

So why wear it?
Part of it is tradition; I enjoy wearing a simple white gi. Notwithstanding all the symbolism about white being a color of purity, I have always preferred a white gi. In practical terms, it’s not actually the best color if you are engaged in hard training that involves blood and sweat. It requires another level of diligence on the part of the student in terms of your training – hygiene (no one enjoys training next to an unwashed gi for long).

The other part is that it is unpretentious and I really prefer simplicity. It took some time, but I came to an answer that satisfied my question. As I observed classes filled with students wearing their gi, I found that on the dojo floor we are all the same. When we don a gi we are leaving the outside world, outside. In a very real sense, it’s a ritual we perform when we put on our gi. We are preparing to face ourselves, our shortcomings, insecurities, faults and strengths. It is a physical act that prepares us for a mental shift. I have witnessed the transformation that occurs when a beginner dons a uniform. They may feel uncertain and unsure initially, but they are dressed the same way everyone else is with no difference, and over a short time are comfortable with the multitude of techniques they are being exposed to. The actual word dogi means “way clothes” and it’s what we wear on the path to self perfection.

In regards to the variety of colors and hues now available for gi, I have always felt that changing the uniform severs our links to the time and culture in which our arts were founded. From what I have seen and what has been shared with me, the norm in most Japanese dojos is austere and simple. You don’t see walls covered in trophies, flags, posters or other distractions. I personally find the gi with the flash and multitude of patches to be garish and uncalled for. Let your techniques and bearing speak for you, not your gi.

The gi we wear is a symbol of unity. On the dojo floor, there is no status – only rank. We all train together, sweat together and grow together, irrespective of how much or how little we make, what we do or do not own, or what position we may have in our jobs or careers. On the dojo floor we all share the common trait of the pursuit of self perfection. One of my senior students shared a profound insight with me recently – The dojo is one of the only places where you can just be. Much of that freedom is provided by wearing a garment that initially, appears to suppress your individuality. What you discover over time, is that free from the constraints of external expression you are capable of a deeper form of expression that is not dependent on what you are wearing.

Now when I’m asked by a prospective student “Do I have to train in a uniform?” My simple answer is-yes, you do.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body

Sensei Orlando

The Commonality of Training


When I first started training, many years ago, the first belt I wore was a white belt.

It signified that I was a beginner, that I had just started my journey. Now many years later and still on the path of my own training and now responsible for the training of others, I can see the factors that tie us all together.

One of the things I learned early on was not to focus on belts or rank. This did not mean you did not respect those higher ranked than you, but rather that ranks were not the goal, nor should they be. I can’t say I fully understood the words of wisdom that were being shared with me at the time by several black belts. I, like so many others had gotten caught up in rank fever.

It’s a condition usually prevalent in the beginning ranks and children who train. What occurs is that the journey is lost and the student becomes fixated on what rank they are and how rapidly they can advance to the next rank. Left unchecked, the student loses sight that training is not about rank and more about the journey itself.

After a few years of this I finally came to the realization that it is not about the rank or belt or stripe, but rather being the best rank I was at the moment. Let me pause here for a moment. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t strive to reach the higher ranks, what it means is being fully present right where you are, the advancement, belts, stripes etc. will come of their own accord if you are diligent and practice being present right where you are.

So what are the commonalities? We all start as beginners. All of us have at one point, been beginners. More importantly, those of us with a few years under our belts would do well to keep the beginner mindset to prevent the onset of ego. After all, what does a belt mean anyway? All it means is that you have been training for X amount of time and that you should know Y material. That is all it means, at its essence. Character or level of maturity is not indicated by the belt around your waist, for those to be seen or experienced you must go beyond the belt to the person wearing the belt.

There are no extraordinary powers conferred upon you when you don a black belt much to the surprise of the many students who achieve shodan (Shodan literally means “beginning degree” and is the subject for another post) each year. What you do discover upon reaching black belt or any of the senior ranks is that now you have a responsibility towards those who are on the path after you. Rather than lord it over your juniors, your purpose is to serve them in any way that you can, not the other way around. Unfortunately there are training halls where this relationship is skewed and the meaning lost. In a school devoid of ego this will never be cause for concern, since the seniors will remember that they too were white belts or beginners and empathize with what the white belts are going through.

The other major commonality is that we are all human beneath our gi. We may have some differences in the way we train, but we all sweat, train, and bleed on the dojo floor together. We all have setbacks and successes on our path of training. The important thing to remember is that we are not the first to go through this, and more importantly that we are not the last.

strong spirit-strong mind-strong body
Sensei Orlando

The Power of Sharing

Space, the final frontier…even for those of us that are not Star Trek fans will recognize those words. Back in 1966 there was a show that was ahead of its time. Many of us were children and even more of us were not even born. This show despite its themes, developed a following. When it was threatened with cancellation in its second season (it only had three seasons), it was the power of sharing (through a massive letter writing campaign, today it would be through blogs and email) that brought it back for a third. Had it not been for this power of sharing we may never have heard of this show that has become a part of our culture and has generated numerous spin offs and several feature films, cementing for all time the original cast members in the annals of television history. So why am I sharing this with you? There are many times that we fail to realize the power we possess when we share. Those of us who have worked with sales or in sales realize the power of referral, but what does it mean really, the referral? Isn’t it just another form of sharing? You were pleased with a product or service that you just had to tell your friends or family, in essence you had to share. We have all been to a fantastic restaurant, the service was amazing, the ambiance perfect, the meals succulent. Our experience was so incredible that we rave about it to our friends, family, and even strangers that may ask us about a good place to eat.
On a deeper level we share ourselves with our families, children, and spouses. By sharing ourselves we impart those people in our lives a glimpse of who we really are. We make ourselves vulnerable, but we also form strong bonds, we become a community.
When we decided to start a martial art school, it wasn’t on a whim. The reason was because I had and have Sensei who have shared themselves with me. With that sharing came a responsibility to pass on the knowledge that was given to me. Within their sharing was an implicit message: “To keep what I am sharing with you, to yourself, is being stingy and selfish. Find a way to share what I am sharing with you.”
Amazingly, we have a habit of being stingy and selfish, especially with ourselves. We don’t celebrate our accomplishments with those closest to us, we don’t let others acknowledge us, many times we don’t accept that we have transformed, in many cases drastically and positively.
So what should we do? If you have something positive and good in your life, share it with others.
I recently had a parent tell me about how great their children are doing in the school, naturally I was pleased. In fact in many cases I’m just as pleased as the parents because, like I tell all the parents, once your children join our school, they are my children too. In my discussion with these parents an interesting comment was made. They were so excited about our school they told me they were “preaching” to everyone about us. After giving it some thought, I realized this is what we do when we have something good (or bad) in our life, we preach to others about our experiences. In other words we share.
I also realized something else, almost everyone in our school has done the same, shared about us to someone else. It’s a telling indicator, that when we have something positive in our life and we are not sharing it with others, then we are veering into being selfish. You will find that if you are being selfish in one area of your life, it impacts other areas. At its core this selfishness creates an state of scarcity that can influence every aspect of your life.
So how to correct this state? Share. Share of yourself, share those things that are positive in your life. Share with everyone, those close to you and strangers as well. When you share this way you will find that people will be just as willing to share and give of themselves to you.
strong spirit-strong mind-strong body
Sensei Orlando