Some Classic Literature: The Art of War

Yick. The 3 day weekend has me out of whack and forgetting to post things the night before. So, you guys get a midday post as opposed to a repost. Yaaaaay?

For those who do not know me very well, I am very interested in the sciences. The mindset of the sciences is very similar to my approach to martial arts: to learn anything, you must first accept that you do not know something. Along a similar vain, I believe the well known quote by Isaac Newton hold true to martial arts as well: If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants. As a martial artist, and in almost everything in life, we begin by being introduced to something, shown the rudimentary level information, and gradually increase the intensity and complexity of the pursuit until we are ourself asking the new questions. As my instructor once said, a black belt is just the new white belt. Once there, the advancement of your abilities lies in your own hands.

By looking at what came before, we are able to better determine how to move ahead. In martial arts, much of this is done in a teacher-student setting, but there are other ways to seek insight into martial arts from the past. One of the most favored methods is by reading, and today I'm going to begin to talk about a book that I, as well as historians around the world, have found incredibly useful.

The Art of War by Sun Tzu is probably one of the most well known books in the world. Here is a selection from the forward to the 2003 Barnes and Noble Classics edition of The Art of War:

"Thought to have lived in the fifth century B.C., at roughly the same time as Confucious, Sun Tzu was born as Sun Wu--Sun was his family name, Wu his given name, and Tsu an honorific title. His family was part of a clan of experts on arms and fighting; in that era, clans and families "owned" information. just as in medieval Europe guilds fathers passed on specialized knowledge and training to their sons. Sun Tzu's teachings are most likely a combination of his clan's ideas and his own, as well as concepts associated with early Toaism."

Sun Tzu wrote The Art of War as a guide book for his ruling emperor to use in waging war. It was used by many ruling entities of China for centuries, and finally translated to French in 1772, and English in 1905. Since then, various translation have spread around the globe, and the book is studied by people from all walks of life. The nature of the text is such that, though written about waging war, the content itself can be applied to many different aspects of life, from business to personal interactions.

As a martial artist, much can be gleaned from The Art of War, both practically and philosophically. I am going to take segments from the book and analyze them in the order the are lain out in the text. What follows is my own interpretation.

I. Laying of Plans, part one

This section of the text describes the importance of plans and breaks down how to properly strategize for what lays ahead. I will not include every segment, but the ones that I believe hold the most information for discussion. For example, the opening sentence "Sun Tzu said: The art of war is of vital importance to the state" does not hold much significance in our discussion.

3. "The art of war, then, is governed by five constant factors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when seeking to determine the conditions of obtaining in the field.

4. The are: The Moral Law; Heaven; Earth; The Commander; Methods and Discipline.

5,6. The Moral Law causes the people to be in complete accord with their ruler, so that they will follow him regardless of their lives, undismayed by any danger.

7. Heaven signifies night and day, cold and heat, times and seasons.

8. Earth comprises distances, great and small; danger and security; open ground and narrow passes; the chances of life and death.

9. The Commander stands for the virtues of wisdom, sincerity, benevolence, courage and strictness.

10. By Method and Discipline are to be understood the marshaling of the army in it's proper subdivisions, the gradations of rank among the officers, the maintenance of roads by which supplies may reach the army, and the control of military expenditures."

These five aspects, as written, are very literal in their application to military action. Without faith in the emperor or their nation, solider may be inclined to disobey or flee. Knowing the weather conditions and taking the time of day into account has enormous implications for an operation. To apply them to ourselves as individuals and as martial artists, we have to draw connections between the explicit factors and the implicit traits within ourselves. Let's take, to start, the implications for planning a training regimen.

The moral law, as it applies to the individual, is faith that what you are doing is right, or at the very least necessary. The stronger the foundation of confidence in your actions morally, the stronger your convictions. This can be broadened to motivations as a whole, depending on the individual. If you find yourself more motivated by personal gain than morals, you must use that to your advantage to maximize your own conviction. Find what is most important to you, and use it to remind yourself why you are training, fighting, or struggling for what you want to achieve. 

Heaven, the natural conditions at a given moment, is significant for planning ahead for a plethora of reasons. Your daily schedule may limit you to certain times for training. The weather may forecast rain, preventing your run. Winter is too cold to swim outdoors, and in summer it may be too hot to strain yourself while exercising. Understanding the environmental conditions and how they will change over time allows you to maximize your efficiency. If you want to compete in a tournament in two months, consider your schedule, the common weather for the season, and what you need to accomplish in that time. Running in the mornings might be better for you because it will still be cool outside, and you can train indoors in the evening. 

Earth, the physically immediate conditions, takes into account the limitations set fourth by your current state. Is the neighborhood too dangerous to run through?  How close is the gym? What sort of training is available to you, and what isn't? What are your current limits when it comes to training? By thinking heavily on these conditions, you can plan the specific regimen such that best fits your current environment. 

The commander in this scenario could mean different things. If you are being taught or trained by someone else, do they have the traits of a good teacher? Do their values align with your own? Do you find that their attitude towards training is in sync with your own? Or, it is possible that you are your own commander. Do you trust in your ability to make wise choices? To hold yourself to the proper standards to achieve your goals?

Methods and discipline ties closely to the commander here. While you may not necessarily have an army to regimen, you to have priorities to structure. Is it your training that must take front seat to everything? Or is it a secondary concern to other parts of your life. Can your budget support a gym membership, or must you sacrifice something else in order to afford it? Careful consideration of other aspects of your life and your personal means is important in establishing a training regimen that can be sustained. 

In addition to this scenario, you can apply this structure to combat as a martial artist. When engaged in a fight or flight situation, consider the moral implications of what is happening. Is it right to stand your ground and fight, or is fleeing the proper response? Is it dark out? Did it just rain? The weather conditions could provide a chance to use different tactics to overcome your opponent, such as limited vision and slippery footing leaving you with an easier time tripping your opponent. How far are they standing from you? Are you in a narrow alley or an open street? Are they armed? Are you armed? These physical conditions limit or open your options for engaging the opponent. As for commander, you should take into account both you and your opponent's state of mind. Are they likely to leave you alone if you give them your wallet? Will they balk if you stand up to them? Do you trust yourself to make the right call in the amount of force used? The methods and discipline here are your priorities. Are you going to try to make an opening for an escape? How much of a risk are you willing to take to accomplish your goals, be it to subdue the enemy or get to safety? 

These five heads, as Sun Tzu referred to them, are the key factors in planning ahead.  My next post will finish my commentary on what the text discusses in regards to using said factors. 

Show and Tell

As anyone who practices martial arts can tell you, one of the first things people will say when you tell them you do karate, martial arts, or whatever you refer to it as, is "Show me something cool!" The idea that martial arts are something to be shown off, demonstrated, or gawked at is, in my opinion, the downside to the increased exposure brought upon by it's use in media.

The influence of such things as Kung Fu movies, the explosive popularity of Power Rangers in the nineties, and the prevalence of comic book heroes in our culture have played a significant role in spreading interest in the martial arts. I myself dove head first into martial arts when I was five out of my obsession with the Green Power Ranger. The spectacle and performance aspect of a well choreographed fight scene is a wonderful way to enthrall the imagination of an onlooker, and has been invaluable in making the global martial arts community what it is today.

However, this spectacle breeds the misconception that martial arts are intended for such displays. That everyone who does Kung Fu makes the Bruce Lee noises (spoilers: it's basically just him, with a few exceptions), that we all do back flips and gymnastics moves, or worst of all, that a martial artist can just use their knowledge to look badass on the fly. 

With the exception of styles like capoeira, which incorporates gymnastics and acrobatics into their techniques, there is actually very little spectacle involved in pure martial arts. Don't get me wrong, there is a huge benefit in training in gymnastics as a martial artist. They use the same concepts of proper form, full body strength, and precise control, and the balance and understanding of how your body moves and can be moved that gymnasts learn can easily be applied to martial arts. However, there is almost no practical application to excessive leaps, flips, and the like in combat. 

In combat, flash means time, and the flashier the technique, the longer it takes to execute. Every moment you take to make a move is a moment you are handing over to your opponent to react. A good analogy is the famous shot from Indiana Jones. He walks up and there's a man doing all of these fancy flourishes with a scimitar. It's five seconds of showmanship. What does Indy do? He shoots the guy. If, instead of doing showy flourishes he had immediately lunged at Indie, our hero wouldn't have had the time to pull his gun and fire. In fact, the original script called for a fancy fight scene, but Ford was sick that day and just look at Spielberg and said "can I just shoot him?" So we instead see Indie go for the quick, clean, and efficient method.

In training, flourishes teach you finer control of your tools, be they weapons or your own body, and are useful in teaching you how to maneuver your tools in whatever manner is necessary. They are overly complicated to make the simple acts easier. 

Any experienced martial artist could, if they so chose, choreograph a fight scene or a move sequence to show off and look cool. But that's not really a demonstration of their skill. The better martial artist isn't the one who puts on the best show, but the one who embodies their style's philosophy, has mastered their techniques, and understands when and how to use their skills appropriately. 

Many of my martial arts friends don't tell people they practice, especially those who are black belts. It isn't because we aren't proud, but because we understand that what that aspect of our lives means to us is not at all what it means to other people. We could show off that jump 360 round house kick, break boards and cinder blocks, demonstrate fancy locks and throws, but to someone who has dedicated hours upon hours of time perfecting their techniques and training until they were sore and carefully picking apart what they knew to find their weaknesses, it's a very hollow victory to get the momentary adoration of a few bystanders. 

If your friend ever tell you they do karate, keep all of this in mind. To them, a challenge to show you something cool will be disappointing. Ask them instead to tell you about the style they do, what kind or training they do, and if they have anything useful they could teach you. I guarantee that they will be thrilled to share it with you. And who knows, that might get you interested in the pursuit as well.

The Seven Tenets Part 3: Perseverance and Indomitable Spirit

To top off my discussion of the Seven Tenets of Tang Soo Do, we're going to discuss Perseverance and Indomitable Spirit. The two, quite obviously, go hand in hand. In fact, for a very long time I considered them to be redundant, as they can both be summed up by saying 'never quit'. However, there is an acute difference between the two.

Indomitable spirit is a refusal to accept defeat and to continue pushing forward.

Perseverance is the refusal to stop no matter the difficulty faced.

Essentially, Indomitable Spirit is a resilience in the face of defeat, while Perseverance is resilience in the face of resistance. There is some overlap, but there are, to me at least, clear instances in which only one applies. To best demonstrate this, I'm going to pull out a pair of anecdotes.

For my particular Dojang, our black belt tests involve a times 3 mile run with pushups, sit ups, and jumping jacks. As you go up in the ranks, you have to fit more of the calisthenics into the same time frame (the run stays constant). At the test for my second degree, I found myself pushing the time limit at the end of the run. Nothing too close to risk not passing, but enough that I decided to pick up the pace on the last lap. As it turns out, this was not a good call. Three-quarters of the way around the track where the test was being held, I passed out. I fell over, threw up, and blacked out for about a minute. I regained consciousness to my instructor saying my name and asking if I was alright. I don't think I spoke, but I nodded, got up, and walked the rest of the way.

To me, this is perseverance. I stumbled and fell, quite literally, but did not give up. I could have stopped if I chose. With a quarter of the track left out of sixteen laps, my instructor would probably have pitied me an counted it, even if I got back to the finish line beyond the time limit. However, it was important to me that I finish what I started with integrity. I finished in 58 minutes.

To contrast, the tests also include two other portions focused on techniques, knowledge, and skill. The first time I took the test, I passed the first to portions without a hitch. However, between week two and three, I had an accident. I, humorously enough, tripped over my neighbor's dog while playing with it and hyper-extended my elbow. Not damaging enough to break it, but enough to make me very worried about the test. I get to the last day of the test, my arm bandaged up. There's maybe twenty people crammed into our Dojang to watch the three of us test. I get through about twenty minutes before something we do jars my elbow. Suddenly, I can't move my hand and my entire arm is replaced with a sharp, stabbing pain. I'm forced, in front of everyone, with tears in my eyes, to leave the test, becoming the first, and to my knowledge, only student from my Dojang to leave any test without completing it.

I was upset for maybe three hours. I distinctly remember lying in my bed staring at the ceiling, feeling sorry for myself. However, eventually the disappointment and embarrassment melted away, and I just accept that what happened happened, and in six months I'll be able to test again. And, sure enough, six months later I passed with flying colors.

This is it indomitable spirit. The ability to lose. Everyone loses at some time or another, and it is how we deal with loss that reflects who we are. A martial artist will grow from their loss, understand what it meant as a reflection of themselves, and build upon that knowledge to achieve success in the future. For me, my failure at the test taught me to respect my body more. It is better to understand where to draw the line than to leap across it without thinking, especially if you intend for that line to move farther away.

These two traits together make up the mindset of a martial artist when it comes to adversity. When faced with a challenge, a martial artist will not abandon their task because it becomes too hard, and when they fail, a martial artist does not wallow in self pity or blame others, they accept responsibility and learn from their shortcomings.

These are the Seven Tenets, and they reflect the proper mindset and traits of a Tang Soo Do practitioner. One must maintain integrity, concentration, perseverance, respect and obedience, self control, humility, and indomitable spirit to truly embody what it means to practice Tang Soo Do. Different styles hold different traits to higher regard, but almost all styles have a core philosophy like this. As I continue my journey, I am sure I will encounter new approaches to the idea of a martial artist, and as I discover new things I will share them here.

So ends my discussion of the Seven Tenets of Tang Soo Do. For now.

The Seven Tenets Part Two: Concentration, Respect and Obedience, and Humility

Returning to analysis of the Tenets, I wanted to knock out a discussion of three Tenets at once. The first of these is Concentration. So far as a definition goes, it does what it says on the tin. A proper martial artist is a person of intense focus. In a combat focus, a lapse in concentration can mean the difference between victory and defeat, or even between life and death.

However, training as a martial artist isn't solely about combat, but extends to all aspects of one's life. A martial artist is not only focused when in the heat of battle, but maintains a keen attention to everything he or she does. Work, training, people, and everything else that fills the life of a true martial artist earns their complete attention. Sometimes this isn't easy. Losing focus because of fatigue, stress, or extraneous stimulus is very common and easy to fall prey to. I myself am notorious as a professional distraction in the work place, though more so for others, and who among us has never stubbed their toe because they weren't paying attention?

Martial arts training serves as a means to heighten your ability to concentrate. My mother recently told me about sitting in on my first karate test over a decade ago. I was a very rambunctious kid, and was always quick to deviate from instruction in school and do whatever I wanted. However, the moment my instructor called the test to order, I stood still, eyes front, mouth shut, probably for the first time my parents had ever seen. Needless to say, that probably helped solidify karate in my life way back then, though it wouldn't be for another few years that it started to carry over into school work. It has, in my opinion, influenced my tendency for obsessive focus on things that interest me. When I read, for example, it is all consuming. I won't move until I'm done, even to eat.

While concentration is a purely introverted trait, the following two Tenets are far more interpersonal. Respect and Obedience is, in my opinion, one of the most difficult concepts to teach a student who doesn't inherently listen to teacher. Part of this is because for some, they interpret the combined Respect and Obedience as a lowering of their pride or ego.

"Why should I listen to you?"
"You're not the boss of me!"

Anyone who has ever spent more than five minutes around a small child probably experienced this at one point or another, and anyone who works as a teacher has experienced it every day in the classroom. What I found worked best for getting this concept across (at least in teaching karate) was to speak to them on an equal footing. You establish that you respect them. When that happens and they see you as something other than an oppressor, you can then ask them where they are. You're in class. As an instructor, we don't see the students as inferior being that need to be controlled, but as equals with whom we have the chance to explore their potential. The teacher is just a person who knows things and wants you to know them, too. While I cannot promise this approach is viable in all scenarios, I have had success using it myself.

What this demonstrates is my own, personal interpretation of Respect and Obedience. The first part is mutual. Respect is earned, and it can be lost. As a student, you demonstrate your respect for the teacher by obeying them in class. As a teacher, you respect the students by not looking down on them and being fair in your instruction. The same rule goes for all authority figures. In the setting you're in, there will almost always be power dynamic centered around authority. A martial artist treats those around him or her with respect, and obeys the proper authority in a given situation. When the respect for that authority is lost, the obedience is lost as well. It is knowing when someone has lost the respect necessary to deserve obedience that separates a martial artist from a thug.

The final Tenet, Humility, is an interesting concept to discuss. Tied closely to Respect and Obedience, one must first be humble to be able to obey. To have pride in oneself is important to a healthy mindset, but an expansive ego can only hinder you as a martial artist. A basic rule of life is that no matter what you do in life, there is always someone better. There is always another tier, another thing you don't know or haven't done. There are exceptions to this, but inherently only one at a time. The first step to becoming great is accepting that you have room to improve. Only then can you expect any sort of personal growth. Too much pride in something will lead to stagnation. Too much boasting will only serve to make your next loss more painful.

American culture is very clearly one of ego preservation. We are the home of 'everyone is a winner', as well as keeping up with the Joneses and the demanding of prestige and social acceptance. Grades, fashion, cars, toys, so much of our lives are consumed by the need to feel important, to feel proud. I am not going to say that it's all wrong, but many Americans have lost the ability to be humble. If anyone reading this has ever worked in retail, you know what I am talking about. Many people go out of their way to don the air of 'Do you know who I am?' whenever they feel even the slightest bit superior in a situation.

A martial artist avoids this. The mindset of a martial artist is one of constant self improvement, and therefore one should never assume that they are superior, that they are the best, or that others are on anything less than equal footing. It is through humility that a martial artist can ensure the most growth.

Next time, I'm going to talk about Perseverance and Indomitable Spirit, and will muse on the overall effect of obedience to the Seven Tenets.

I'm Alive, I swear! Here's my thoughts on training

Well, turns out I'm terrible at self motivation when it comes to writing, though some of you probably knew that about me. I intended to continue to discuss the Tenets of Tang Soo Do, but given how much time it's taken me, I'm going to take this opportunity to change gears a little. Besides, assuming I ever get myself to write regularly, I can always return to the topic.

Today I'm going to talk a little bit about training. This will be the first of my more concrete discussions regarding martial arts.

 The crux of a martial artist's ability is how, and what, they practice. For me, from the ages of 5 to 19, I went to karate classes two to three times a week. These were an hour long, and we would focus on something different every day.

In my opinion, there are three kinds of martial arts training categories: technique training, forms (often called kata), and sparring.While none of these can be said to be better or more important than the others, they each intertwined with the others.

The simplest and easiest category of training is technique training. Put in the bluntest of terms, you do a thing over and over again. 50 punches, kicks up and down the floor, these drills are meant to focus on a specific block, kick, punch, stance or habit that you want to improve.

I love me some technique training. Unlike forms, that require more space and more time, drills are short and in general don't require much more than 6 feet of free space. Recently at work, for example, I would have a free 50 seconds before having to take a set of pictures. For 20 minutes I used those 50 seconds to do simple drills, specifically back fist + center punch in a front (or forward) stance, switching after I took the pictures.

The next type of training, forms, is a middle ground between the free-flow of sparring and the rigid repetition of technique drills. A form is a series of techniques put together in a certain order. They are usually about 25-50 moves long, and different style often have different forms. Similar styles, like Shotokon Karate and Tango Soo Do, will have forms that are almost exactly the same but taught with different interpretations. Forms are exceptionally useful in establishing proper technique while moving and teaching you how to tie certain moves together in sequence. Additionally, some forms are built around a certain concept or technique such that they prepare you specific situation, like fighting with your back to a wall.

Forms are one of the most heavily emphasize aspects of traditional martial arts. They are passed down from teacher to student and carry a significant amount of history to them. In my lessons, for example, we were required to learn the origins of the Pyung-Ahn forms. They were created by Master Udos in 1870 in the Hanan providence of China. He was Okinawan. The interesting part of this history is that these are the same forms that make up the bulk of Shotokon Karate. A friend of mine studies this style, and by comparing these forms as they are taught to each of us, we learned about they strengths, weaknesses, and mindsets of our individual styles.

The third type of training is sparring, practice fights between martial artists. In all honesty, sparring is my favorite training method. Unlike technique drills and forms, this sparring is inherently unique to the individuals participating. There is no preset order, to proper way to do things. It is the most restrictive training practice, however, as it is the only one you cannot do alone. Additionally, it is arguably the most dangerous, though in my personal experience more people get hurt in technique drills. The fact that you bring another person into the equation means that some amount of the content will be beyond your control. A lack of control on the part of either one of the participants (assuming you're only sparring one on one) could have serious repercussions for both people.

In my opinion, you cannot properly train as a martial artist without using at least two of the three methods. I refrain from saying all three because depending upon the point in your martial arts career, you may find yourself no longer needing to emphasize a certain aspect of your training, or be unable to find a partner to spar with. I, for example, can't spar more than once every few months at the moment, having no one conveniently located to spar regularly. I do, however, have ample space to practice forms and, as I mentioned earlier, the ability to practice drills more or less wherever I feel.

There is also a fourth component to training as a martial artist, and one which many people fail to partake in: physical conditioning. Martial arts is, at it's core, mastering the use of your body for combat. If your body is in poor condition, your martial art is in poor condition. Without strength, your strikes are ineffective. Without endurance, you may find yourself unable to defend yourself long enough to be victorious. All of the technical skill in the world can only get you so far, and if you wish to be the best martial artist you can be, you need to be fit. I (hopefully) will post pictures of myself from May, when I began this blog. I'll also try to post current pictures to show how far I have come, and hopefully I won't be embarrassed.

That's all for today. I look forward to hopefully posting more content more frequently. We'll have to wait and see.

The Seven Tenets Part 1

Earlier, I talked about the Five Codes of Tang Soo Do and how I interpreted them. While the Codes serve as rule of conduct, the Seven Tenets list the traits that describe the ideal practitioner of TSD. They are a little more vague at times, but I find that to make them that much more fascinating to talk about.

The Tenets are as follows:

Integrity
Concentration
Perseverance
Respect and Obedience
Self Control
Humility
Indomitable Spirit

I  mentioned the 7th in my last post, and I'm going to spend the next few posts talking about these traits in more detail, how they apply to TSD, and what it means to adhere to them in daily life.

The first Tenet is integrity. The dictionary gives three definitions of integrity:

1. Adherence to moral and ethical principles.

2. The state of being whole, entire, or undiminished.

3. A sound, unimpaired, or perfect condition.

I personally believe that the first definition is the one meant in the Tenets.The ideal TSD practitioner should be moral, inside and outside of the dojang. By its nature, martial arts is something violent, and like a gun or a knife can be used to hurt others. What differentiates the martial artist from a a thug is understanding and respecting violence. My instructor was fond of the saying "Karate doesn't teach you how to fight, it teaches you how not to fight." What we learn in the dojang is a skill that one avoids using. It is the last resort, to be used when words fail, or when you don't have the option to run. That's right, run. Just because you can put that person in their place with your fists does not mean that you should.

This ties closely to self control, the fifth Tenet. No matter how angry you get or how badly you want to hit someone, Doing so for such selfish and petty reasons isn't right. A proper martial artist does not bow to their own whims and always remains in control. Like the gun or knife, an accident or unintended abuse of martial arts can have severe consequences.

Integrity and self control aren't reserved for the dojang, though. If you avoid immoral use of violence seriously, but are otherwise predisposed to bad behaviors, you have only taken the surface of the Tenets to heart. If you keep your use of violence in check, but are not otherwise disciplined, you haven't truly learned self control. 

This is the hardest part of the Tenets. It can be easy to just keep the good behavior in the dojang, never use your skills at all, but outside of practice you are rude, angry, and immoral. I've seen it dozens of times, even by those who reached the rank of black belt. A belt, a uniform, and a few years of doing drills in a class doesn't make you a martial artist, it makes you a dabbler, or at best just an athlete. 

I've internalized integrity very strongly. I have a distinct opinion of right and wrong, and I do my best to stick to it. Self control, however, has never been my strong suit. I am a lazy glutton who likes to sleep. But I'm working on it. The key to the Tenets is that they give you something to aspire to. No one is born with a complete martial artist mindset. It is something grown, nurtured, and maintained over time. 

Next time, I'll try to cover concentration, respect and obedience, and humility.

Dealing with a Stumble

As you may have noticed, I haven't posted in a very long time. Almost a full month, in fact. This is due to several different occurrences, some good and some bad, that left me tired and distracted. Over the last month, I barely exercised, ate poorly, but was more social and busy doing twelve different things at once. While I left off preparing to talk about Tang Soo Do's Seven Tenets, I think I have a better idea for a post today. I can come back to that later, but I think now is a good time to discuss what to do when you seem to have fallen off the wagon.

This sort of thing happens frequently to people who are trying to make serious life changes. Smokers trying to quit, someone trying a new diet, it's very easy for one little cheat to turn into a return to old habits. For me, my attempt to delve into serious martial arts training and practices is very similar. My personal weakness is laziness. If don't feel like the choice is beyond my control, that it's at my own discretion and not being demanded of me by someone else, I usually won't do it. I like to sleep, I don't like filling out forms or applications, and I'd rather sit at a computer and do nothing all day, if given the chance. My endeavor into martial arts is partially about trying to break that lazy streak, to get myself going and moving on my own, but as we have evidence of from the last month, I kind of really, REALLY suck at it.

So what do you do when you fall off the horse? You get up and try again.

This is a sentiment that is so frequently repeated there are multiple clichés for it. Falling off a bike, the wagon, a horse, stumbling, tripping, so on. I like clichés, because they tell us that this isn't an original problem. Having trouble keeping up a new, healthy habit or simply reverting to old ways isn't something that's only ever happened to me (or you). People  have tripped up and lost their way since our ancestors were living in caves, which brings me to my first reflection on what to do when you have a hiccup in your diligence.

You have to remember that it's ok.

I won't lie, when it finally hit me that I'd slacked off so hard over this last month, I felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart with a rusty knife. That stinging guilt of failure by your own hands is something that's I'm familiar with, but never get used to. I'd let people down, if only a few, but I'd also let myself down. When I sat down to write this post, I was telling someone how crappy my day felt because of how disappointed in myself I was. I'd let more than just my blogging fall to the wayside, and I'd neglected to do many things over the last month that I had needed to get done, or promised someone I'd do. However, as I continued to write I realized that what I need to do isn't to feel angry at myself but to accept that it happened and move on. This happens to plenty of people, and I'm not any better or worse than anyone else because I did it too.

People are complex things that don't make sense, and I can make less sense than most. People will set goals and then we'll sabotage ourselves, then feel angry for it. But in the end, we aren't lesser for having done so. When you lose track of yourself and your goals, so long as you recognize that it happened and are willing to try again, it's ok. It's not the end of the world, you aren't a piece of trash, and you shouldn't get angry at yourself. Which brings me to the next reflection on this situation, deciding what to do next.

One of the most common Einstein quotes is "Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." When you want to get back into your desired life change, you have to pinpoint where you went wrong, or else you will lose your way again. Part of my stumble was external, that the gym was closed for the last half of May and I hadn't known, thus throwing my workout routine for a loop. This is only half of it, because my personal philosophy on exercise is that if you want to do it, you don't need a gym. My habits fell apart because I let the gym closure stop me. Once I ceased exercising, everything else followed. My sleep schedule changed because I wasn't expending as much energy during the day, my eating changed because I'd wake up at a different time or wouldn't make food because I didn't feel like it, as my lethargy increases when not exercising. I was out of my house most of the day for 6 days a week, which helped my mood stay up, and I was social and making progress with certain projects, but I wasn't spending my time efficiently, another side effect of not including a daily workout in my routine.

Moving forward, I'm going to try to be more aware of this weak point. I am a creature of habit, and if I let my new habits slide, my old ones will perk up at the first opportunity. Starting this afternoon, I'll try to get my lazy butt back into gear, even if it's a low one.

I can close off this post by bringing up the Tenets, like I had mentioned before. This is a little out of order, but I feel it is appropriate. The seventh Tenet of Tang Soo Do is indomitable spirit. A martial artist doesn't let mistakes bring him or her low. Defeat is not complete until you accept it within yourself, and this setback is not truly a defeat for me. I have stumbled, yes, and lost some progress, but in doing so I have learned more about how I function and what I need to do to succeed, and I can take that knowledge and turn towards the path again with new vigor and confidence.

No battle is lost if you can still imagine victory.