Black Belts Don't Play Nice in the Sandbox

Sifu Dennis made a passing comment to me. “Black Belts don’t play nice in the sandbox.” A small off handed joke. Suddenly the epiphany strikes. How true is this. We are tough (mentally and physically), aggressive, we can turn it on or off, we have single minded determination and follow through, we set goals and expectations high, we strive to improve, we lead by whatever means we have, and we commit 100% to anything we choose to undertake. We “play for keeps”.

There are no funsies as a Black Belt. I’m not saying we don’t have fun, or that we don’t work with our partners, but that when we are executing that punch, we are just as focused as when we are performing that block. There is nothing else in the world besides what we are doing when we are doing it. You can actually see the expressions of the face and the language of the body change. It’s all or nothing, and it’s all about that one moment.

And that’s how we like it.

Through Black Belt Eyes

All of the Black Belts in our school, and more than likely a good many of the queue students, have heard the term "Black Belt Eyes". This term is used to remind us to have empathy for others, especially those who seem to struggle more with their techniques or have less natural ability. Black Belt Eyes means that our perspective is tainted by years of work and acquired ability. When I say tainted, I mean that we have forgotten what it was like to struggle through basic techniques, what it is like not to immediately understand what is expected of us, or to lack the advantage of having our knowledge return to us with in a few repetitions and having the confidence that goes with these securities.

I realize how arrogant this must sound, but my intention is to explain why "Black Belt Eyes" is a negative thing. Seeing things through Black Belt Eyes means that you do not empathize, and you have forgotten the fundamentals of relating to your students. It can mean that you have forgotten that the things that appeal to you, won't necessarily appeal to your students. It can mean that you have gotten impatient with your students for their lack of understanding, instead of being frustrated with yourself for your inability to properly communicate. It can be as simple as being arrogant enough to think "back in the day this was better, or we had it harder". How can you truly compare your struggle, triumphs, and perspective with another's? Better luck with apples and kangaroos on that one.

So by now you are probably thinking "Yippee Skippy! What does this verbal diarrhea have to do with anything?"

Confession.... As far as having Black Belt Eyes goes, I'm probably the worst one you are going to meet. I have very high expectations, and well lets face it, I have been referred to as a pit bull on more than one occasion. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy being viewed in this light. In my opinion it shows how fiercely devoted and loyal I am to Kung Fu, our school, and all the members therein. I'm an all or nothing type of person, and my world is exclusively "black and white". If my passion for Kung Fu was not as intense, it would be non existent, and I would have lead a very different life. But that is another story, one that most likely will not get told.

So yes, I have a bad case of Black Belt Eyes, and no it is not a good thing. I am, however, receiving MANY valuable lessons in humility and empathy at the moment. In the last year or so, I have started exploring personal interests that have been on "hold" as it were. These are physical activities that are fun, intense, and challenging. They have also been a real reality check for me. Suddenly I'm a white belt again. Not so much fun.

Lets put it in perspective. For my entire adult life I have been a Black Belt. I have a good understanding of the Martial Arts, and am excited to discover new things, confident that I have the basics and instincts to keep me safe even when pushing my comfort zone and stretching my element. After nearly 17 years, one should hope so. Needless to say, one can get an inflated ego, and in many ways, we are all guilty of this.

So here I am, learning challenging new things and literally stumbling over my feet and landing on my face or butt, over and over and over, much to my instructor’s intense entertainment. (Thank you Master Brinker for teaching me break falls!) And through it all, am I having patience with myself, encouraging myself to keep going? I'm just learning after all, and I've got the rest of my life to figure it out, and get it right. All the things I preach to my students, am I putting them into practice? NO! Not even close. There I am ... angry, frustrated, and practically snarling because I'm a black belt and I should be able to get it right! It's not rocket science after all! What's the matter with me? This should be child's play! I'm a Black Belt, I can do anything I set my mind to. All Black Belts eat flour and poop cupcakes! Who does this sport think it is, kicking my butt? I am Black Belt! Hear my tantrum!

So now back to reality. I look at myself and shake my head. I have all the tools, understanding, and desire to accomplish my goals. I have some natural ability, and more than enough work ethic. What I lack is patience and empathy for myself. Like I said before, I have extremely high expectations, and no matter how high they are for others, they are higher for me. And when I don't get what I want, when I want it, so rears the Fire Dragon personality. And I don't even get the comfort of saying "I don't know better" than to get this frustrated with myself.

What has this taught me? A lot! I look at my students with a whole new understanding of their struggle, their courage, and their passion. Suddenly I don't have to try to remember what they are going through, I'm experiencing it with them, even if it is in a different way. The Black Belt Eyes are still there, but I have a new way of qualifying them, and an easier time of telling myself to snap back into the real world.