Dancing with the Ninjas

First, for crafting stuff.  I’m finishing a blanket that is styled after a Hudson Bay Blanket.  I was inspired this summer when we visited the Hudson Bay Company in Toronto, and wanted to do something that would remind me of our Canadian neighbors. 

And my karate update. . .I’m presently working on my third kata, which I need to master for my red belt.  It’s hard to explain to my non-karate friends what a kata is, so I’m going to use the Wikipedia definition:

“Kata (型 or 形, literally: "form"^?) is a Japanese word describing detailed choreographed patterns of movements practised either solo or in pairs. The term form is used for the corresponding concept in non-Japanese martial arts in general.

Kata are used in many traditional Japanese arts such as theater forms like kabuki and schools of tea ceremony, but are most commonly known for the presence in the martial arts.”

(source: Wikipedia)

The katas we learn are the five traditional katas taught in karate and tang soo do—there are other katas the advance ranks learn, too, but right now I’m only focusing on those that I need to learn right this second.  The third one I’m learning is called Pyong Ahn Sam Dan.  When I tell my friends this, their first reaction is “is that what the North Korean military does in all those You Tube videos?” or “what the hell is a kata?”

Well, the easiest way I can describe a kata to someone who doesn’t know is to say “a kata is a sequence of punches, strikes, kicks and stances that are done to represent a battle with an invisible opponent or opponents.”  And then when I get the typical blank stare I say “it’s like a dance routine.”

Yes, it’s Dancing with the Ninjas.  Only it’s awesome. 

Last night I attended a monthly kata class that our dojo hosts.  It’s an hour or so of nothing but working on the incredibly nuanced moves that make up a kata. I did six years of dance when I was little, so the idea of learning a choreographed sequence makes sense to me.  However, instead of shuffle-ball-change, I’m simulating punching someone simultaneously in the jaw and gut, nailing him with a crescent kick, stomping on his foot, then ending with a jump that’s supposed to simulate my hopping over a body.

Imagine the reality show?!!  I’d tune in. 

Moving Ahead While Feeling Like You're Falling Behind

So first, an update.  I got my red stripe!  I killed that board when I broke it.  It was, as my husband would say, “like sh*t through a goose.”  I am so proud of myself, and I realized today that I never wrote an update to the last post, which was so insightful and deep, but was important for me to talk about, given the struggles I’ve had and my efforts to be in a better place.

So that brings me to my latest “thing”…not that I like to live my world in 24-7 drama, but as a full time mom/wife/worker bee, sometimes that rock star life comes with drama.  And I’m really working hard to find balance in my life.  This has been something I’ve struggled with ever since I brought my oldest daughter home from the hospital, put her in the middle of our bed, looked at my husband and said “okay, so what do we do now?”  I’ve always personally struggled with my role in life and always felt like if I was to be successful in one aspect of my life it meant that other aspects of my life had to suffer.

Since I turned 40 this year, I’ve decided that the search for perfection is unattainable as we are humans and perfection, while ideal, does not exist on this planet.  I have made a conscious effort to practice this in all aspects of my life. But as someone with anxiety and a serious problem with perfectionism, this is much easier said than done.  I am constantly fraught with guilt over not giving enough attention to one aspect of my life, be it work, family, my hobbies. 

I was a knitting machine for a long time, and for a while this summer, I was sewing like a mad woman.  But school started last month and with that I had to put the sewing machine aside to make room on the kitchen table for homework and the occasional family meal.  The same with karate—I was working so hard to get my red stripe, and my sole focus for the entire summer was to achieve that personal goal.  And now that I have it, I am so much more motivated to get my red belt.  I really enjoy the advanced practice and am so proud of my achievements thus far.  But. . .

Life continues to get in the way.  I am often having to sacrifice that 2 hours a week of martial arts in favor of practicing katas in a hotel room somewhere during a work meeting, or skipping class because my kids came home from school and I knew that this was a night where hugs and family time were more important.  Or I have to put that knitting project aside because the night I was going to work on it was the only night my husband was home for a 2 week stretch.  And then work.  Oh, work.  The thing that we all would wish would go away, but somehow living in a van down by the river isn’t so appealing as it might have been when we were 20 so we do what we have to do to bring home that paycheck to pay for that roof over our heads, braces and of course, yarn and karate classes.

I’ve memorized the Serenity Prayer because my mom is a therapist who happened to run an alcohol/drug treatment program, and the prayer was etched into my head at a young age.  I used to think of it as the dominion of substance abusers, but have only recently realized that it applies to just about everyone.  Let me remind you of some of its words:

                God Grant Me the Serenity

                To Accept the Things I cannot change
                The Courage to Change the Things I Can
                And the Wisdom to Know the Difference

 

So just to break it down, what I can’t change is the actions of others and of society—I cannot force the world to bend to my will.  What I can change is my attitude towards the world and its perceived injustices. I am wise because I have finally realize that I can’t fight the momentum of the universe, but I can find my way in it and be okay with that. 

My point is (and I swear I have one) is that before I would have beat myself up over having missed a special event with my kids because I had to attend to a work issue, or a deadline to finish a baby blanket, or even a karate class, and would have found some way to strap on that Superwoman cape and accomplished it all, Martha Stewart-style.  Only Martha has an army of staff, and hey, she’s human too, having served some time in the pokey.  I’m sure Martha would approve of my decision to sometimes say, “I surrender” and just take a breath. 

So whatever journey you’re one right now, just be kind to yourself.  There’s going to be stop lights and detours and occasionally that really annoying “shut down” that gets in the way of your progress.  You have two choices—you can stomp your foot and cry about the injustices of the world and the crap hand you’ve been dealt, or you can take a deep breath and remind yourself that this is temporary, that you’ll get back to the task at hand as soon as you’re able. 

Letting Go of the Fear of Failure--AKA Unlearning the Reverse Cut Down

I tested for a new rank in karate yesterday—a red stripe on a blue belt.  This is the next step in my journey towards a black belt, and while it is more advanced than the lower ranks I still have oh, so many years ahead of me.  But that’s fine—I’m learning that it’s all about the journey and not so much the destination.  

I started studying karate because it was something that I had always wanted to do as a child but that wasn’t an option for me at the time.  And I think in the adolescent part of me thought that it would give me some superhuman strength and swagger that would help heal some of the wounds from childhood.  That it would give me that confidence that I’ve always faked but never actually had.

What I didn’t expect karate to do for me was to help me examine the deepest, darkest part of my personality, and that is my perfectionism and crippling fear of failure.

I recently had a major anxiety episode, and when I mean by “major” I mean I had weeks of dizziness, heart palpitations, fight or flight response and general panicking over everyday things.  For example, I burst into tears one morning over some mundane item at work.  I was convinced my whole world was caving in by some unknown force.  I started hyperventilating over things like deciding what to make for dinner.  I was wound up something good and I have no idea why.  This was so hard on me, but probably harder for those around me who couldn’t do enough to reassure me that I was okay.  That’s just how anxiety works.  I wish I had a better explanation.

Thanks to the miracles of modern medicine I am detoxing from this anxious state and on the path to taking better care of myself.  And like karate, that is a journey and not an instant fix.  You see, I have a really bad habit, almost an addiction of sorts.  I’m addicted to talking badly about myself, and not loving myself.  A self defense mechanism I put in place when I was a child to stop others from beating me to the punch.  If I was self-deprecating to the point of insulting myself people couldn’t hurt me with their words.  And if I was funny while I did it people would talk about how hilarious I was and ignore my other flaws. The problem with inward-facing self-defense postures is that ultimately the only person you’re defending against is yourself, and that really hurts.  The ultimate goal of self-defense is to protect you from getting hurt.  So why would you use one that purposely hurts you?  I know, right?  My mind is blown, too. 

One of the many problems of this self-defense move, which I have named the Reverse Cut Down, is the creation of the need to be perfect.  Because it sort of sucks to talk badly about yourself, you thrive on praise from others, so you seek good grades, your room has to be perfect, you must be the thinnest one in the room, you must be the “best” at everything you try.  Otherwise your big sham will be exposed and everyone will know that you aren’t “perfect.”  They will see that you really actually don’t love yourself and you have so much self doubt about everything you do that it’s a wonder you aren’t laying in a fetal position somewhere in a pair of dirty sweatpants.  This means you are living for others, not for yourself.  I can tell you that not one good grade I ever received gave me happiness, and I was my most miserable at my skinniest 21 year old self.

So about this belt test.  I have been avoiding this belt test like the plague—I probably could have demonstrated my skills a few months ago, but work obligations and other things kept me from doing it—or so I told myself.  The truth is I was finding reasons to avoid showing it out of fear that it wasn’t “perfect.”  I cringed when I thought of the sensei or master correcting me, and the shame I would feel in doing a move wrong.  I thought that I’m ready when it was absolutely flawless, that I’d demonstrate my strikes and there would be an awed silence over the dojo, right before the standing ovation I so rightly deserved.

I know, try to contain your laughter and/or eyerolling.  Really.  Because I think the senseis and master who do an excellent job of teaching me would agree that no one ever stops learning.  And isn’t that the point? Plus, approaching it this way, that testing was something that I must do flawlessly (otherwise I didn’t deserve the promotion) was sucking all the fun out of the process.  I was totally discounting the opportunity to learn more by just being open and not afraid that I might screw up. And how can someone enjoy a new rank they received through fear and loathing?

Last week I prepared for the test, both physically and mentally (but mostly mentally).  A very wise person (okay, my therapist) encouraged me to let go of the crap that happened to me when I was young and not a great athlete (and falling over hurdles in track) and stop pre-judging the outcome and just do my best based on what I’ve learned.  I know, we all say we will “do our best” but when I said it in the past, I really meant “worry about screwing up and focus on how awful you are so that when you do pass you’ll know it was all due to talking badly about yourself and not from real talent.” And if I did screw up, avoid telling myself (and others) that I’m a failure.

I did the test.  Was it flawless?  Of course not.  My husband videotaped me, and I noticed that I didn’t lift up my knee high in a kick, and maybe there wasn’t enough snap in my left kwondo (and by the way the camera adds 10 pounds—and a white gi adds 10 more).  And the board break—oh, god.  The worst possible thing happened in that it took me four tries to break this board with a palm strike.  When I did break it, it was a terrible break.  But instead of falling apart, I offered up the extra board I brought and broke that in one strike.  

My husband told me later how he was pretty amazed that I didn’t fall apart when the board didn’t break.  He said he was fully expecting me to assume the Reverse Cut Down, proclaiming myself a failure before anyone else could.  Instead, I just shrugged it off and walked out of the dojo with my head held high.  Because this particular test wasn’t just about my demonstrating my skill to the board of judges, it was to demonstrate the new me to myself.  To shed the bad habits and unlearn the terrible self-defense moves I created in favor of practicing time-tested maneuvers which might actually serve their intended purpose some day. And that part I aced.  So we will see about the other part tomorrow.

Spring Cleaning

I’m heaving a huge sigh of relief this week.  I work in a field where the large amount of work is done at the beginning of the year, and it starts to slow down after April.  This is the first week since January where I wasn’t being flung 10 different directions, meeting last minute deadlines and counseling people off tall ledges.  And just in time—it’s looking like spring has finally sprung!

Because I’ve been mentally checked out of things that are not work related, this means that my house is trashed.  All my knitting/crochet projects are strung around the living room, hovering somewhere between finished and “frogged.”  There’s one project that seems like it will never end, and when I finish it I shall dance a jig while lighting the spent yarn tubes on fire.  

Last year I was on medical leave after a surgery, and spent most of my time cruising Pinterest for ideas on how to organize and store all my knitting gear—yarn, needles, patterns.  My system of keeping it in a pile by my favorite chair in the living room was becoming an eyesore and a constant source of mocking from my husband.  There were some gorgeous ideas, but 1) I didn’t want to put a whole lot of money into it, 2) while I’m “crafty” I’m not especially “good” at it and 3) some of it looked like it would require me to have access to a band saw and I just don’t see that happening.  Instead, I used the Pinterest posts as inspiration while I crafted something simple that met my need for organization while not breaking the bank.  And this is what I came up with:

The shelf is from Wal Mart ($20) and the baskets are from Dollar Tree.  Is it insufferably cute and camera-worthy?  Oh, good god no.  But it gets the job done and I can shut my basement door and not think about it—and my husband has one less thing to mock.  

Anyway, what was my point?  Oh, yes, that Pinterest is a great source of inspiration but I don’t have the time to do most of what is actually pinned on there.  And I’m now putting all those projects back where they belong in my awesome storage area at the bottom of the basement stairs.  

In other news, I’m still working towards my blue belt/red stripe.  I think I have everything nailed down but still need my one-steps signed off.  My kick (reverse back foot kick) continues to give me fits.  I just need to practice and not whine about it.  To say that I lack confidence in my kicking ability would be an understatement.  I don’t know what it is about kicking, but I tend to just get all in my head and start talking myself out of it.  I usually do well when I don’t think about it and also it would be great if I could test via closed captioned TV and not in front of a board of judges.  

My oldest daughter has also decided to say “sayonara” to karate—for now.  She had her reasons and I can’t judge what goes on inside the mind of a 12-year old girl.  She actually stayed at it far longer than I expected her to.  Although I’m sad about it—it was something we all did together and talked about and really enjoyed as a female unit in the family—I’m happy she isn’t so unhappy anymore.  Whatever it was, be it body consciousness (she is very very tall) or just frustration at not advancing as she had wanted, she really retreated into herself and just lost her love for it.  I also think she thought she was letting me down.  I’m hoping that in time she will miss it (I still catch her kicking and punching) and rediscover her love for it.

So here’s to spring and new beginnings and all of that.  I’m sure that my newfound housekeeping skills will stick with me (don’t count on it).

Gratuitous John Lennon Lyric Reference...

Life happens when you’re busy making other plans…

So I haven’t posted in a while, and it’s probably because, well, I’ve actually been doing my hobbies and haven’t had much time to write about them.  So let me provide a brief update..

·         I’ve moved up a few ranks in karate and am now a blue belt

·         I’ve started maybe 10,000 knitting projects, and I think I’ve finished maybe three. 

This brings me to the thought of my post for the day and that is that life gets in the way sometimes. I have downloaded maybe 300 patterns that I want to knit, but have no time to even make a random hat or a blanket (yea, I owe my brother in law and his new wife a blanket that I started 5 months ago…).  At the end of the day there are just some nights where my eyes can’t focus on a detailed pattern and my brain cannot hold enough concentration to knit even one row.

I also had a new years’ resolution for 2012 (wow, that was over a year ago) and set out a very ambitious goal of achieving my red belt by December of last year.  Well, that didn’t happen.  I had some health issues, work took me everywhere, and I simply didn’t understand the time commitment it would take for the advanced ranks in my system.  It’s okay, though.  I am thinking of it this way: I waited at least 20 years to study the martial arts, which was a childhood dream, ever since I saw Miss Piggy doing it….

So if I don’t become a black belt tomorrow, it’s okay.  In fact, I’d probably want a refund if I was awarded a black belt today because what would I have learned?  I certainly wouldn’t have earned it.  I don’t purport myself to be a martial arts expert by any stretch of the imagination; I’m a student, I’m learning.  Sure, it gets frustrating to me when I can’t nail a kick correctly or forget a small element of a move that seems so irrelevant to anyone else, but I have enough knowledge at this point to know it does matter (hello, please keep your guards up).  That’s why I’m there.  And I guess this is where my lifelong deficit of being “too loyal”, sometimes to a fault, pays off.  I’m loyal to my practice; to quit now would be an insult both to the time and effort I have put in and the time and effort of those who have spent time teaching me.  Not that I’m even thinking of quitting—hell no.  

That’s my deep thought for the day.  Sometimes it’s okay to just know that you will get there. 

Summer=travel knitting and karate camp

So first, a knitting update; I have been traveling so much for work.  And it's been so exotic, jet-setting to locations such as Branson, Missouri, and San Antonio, Texas.  With a little bit of D.C. thrown in.  I think I've been to each of these towns during record-breaking heat, and I can assure you that there does come a point in the day where your deodorant simply stops working.  And it's not pretty.

I've been spending a lot of time in airports, so let me give you all a quick tip: despite what you might have heard, TSA does allow knitting needles and crochet hooks on planes.  They also allow other knitting notions, but do not, under any circumstances, take your expensive stainless steel mini scissors on a plane, as they will confiscate those.  So here's the breakdown: sharp pointy objects that could kill a man are okay, but scissors are not.  Just don't challenge it.  Smile and apologize, don't try to point out that their reasoning is flawed.  After all, do you want to have your knitting needles confiscated, only to discover that your flight is delayed 3 hours?  You can always cut yarn with your teeth.

I've been knitting a lot of small things because I'm a "carry on only" kind of traveler, and only take what I can carry in my tote bag.  So I've got a lot of baby hats, snugglies, socks and other stuff in my gift arsenal.  I've also started on a personal design that I hope to debut this fall--stay tuned on that.  It's crocheted and cashmere and it is FABULOUS.

So on to karate....this summer marks our first full year as part of our "dojo" family.  Every summer, it holds a summer camp for children who are yellow stripe (novice is the best way to describe a yellow stripe) on up.  I kept procrastinating in signing the girls up, strictly for the sheer fact that I had so much travel on my plate that I kept forgetting.  So when one of the sensei warned that there were only a few slots yet, I got to work and signed the girls up.

So here's a photo that describes karate camp:

The girls had a BLAST.  Seriously, you know a summer camp is a hit when your kids are asking you on the last day if they can go next year.  They thoroughly loved it, made new friends, and learned so many new techniques.  As someone who is training in martial arts, I really appreciated the instructors' efforts to enrich the students' learning experience.  All kids, regardless of rank, learned a kata--that is so significant.  You don't learn katas until you are advanced in your training.

As a parent, I totally appreciated the concern they show for every student, and desire for them to learn how to protect themselves out in the real world.  I had a chance to stop in and offer help on the last day--and in hindsight, I wish I had taken the whole week off to help, but I was late to the party on that one.  On the last day, they had an instructor dress up in full body padding (think of Robo Cop in a sumo suit), who then pretended to entice children into coming with him.  This was to demonstrate to the students how to identify "stranger danger" and what to do about it.  The instructor in the body armor had it down, with the creepy voice and the grabbing--anyone who has ever experienced that would most definitely have post-traumatic stress after seeing his portrayal of a child predator.

I have to tell you that these situations disturbed me, but I clapped heartily for every student who was able to break away from the situation, running, kicking, screaming, and in some instances, going limp like a rag doll and sliding out of the hands of their captor.  I was so proud of every student, and felt so good as a parent knowing that I gave my girls the opportunity to learn how to defend themselves.

I'm probably overreacting, but I can't begin to express my appreciation in how much karate has changed my life, and the life of our family.  I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes thinking about it.  It's given my oldest daughter the confidence to overcome some of her childhood demons (that's a whole other post), it's given my youngest a chance to shine like the bright star that she is, it's given my husband the peace of mind to travel for work without worrying about the safety of his family, and it's given me so much.

I just can't even begin to describe it.  No, wait.  Let me describe it.  Think of a young girl, growing up in Central Illinois, bullied by classmates.  Think of that girl walking into school every day, being threatened and mocked and made fun of for...I don't know, name it--being smart, being nice, having the "wrong" friend.  Think of that same girl faking illness on a weekly basis, just so she could go home and escape the hell of middle school.  Had that girl had karate back then, she would have been able to stand tall and proud and at least have the guts to stand up for herself and get the help she needed to survive.  Well, the me of today wishes she could go back in time and be that girl's karate instructor. Because I'm pretty sure I could transform that girl into a bad-ass.  Oh, wait.  I have.  Mission accomplished!  Or at least mission in the process of being accomplished.

A bientot..

Babies Babies Babies

I need a strategy to address the “unexpected” arrival of babies.  I know, I know, I usually have a few months to prepare a gift for my friends and family who have wee ones, but for some reason I always procrastinate and never have something hand made for the big day.  And most of you will probably think, “who the hell cares, just go to Target like everyone else, get a six-pack of receiving blankets and some cute outfit and you’re done.”  But no, I can’t do that.  I wasn’t raised that way.  I grew up watching my mom make layette sets and blankies for everyone, from her multiple nieces and nephews to the lady she pays for gas at the local Speedway.  Call it handmade snobbery, call it some kind of Martha Stewart-induced obsession, but I’ve got to make things for babies.

Except my own of course.  You have heard the phrase, “the cobblers children have no shoes”?  This knitter’s daughters have no blankets.  Every blanket I’ve ever started for them ends up in the hands of someone else. 

So I showed you all the  blanket I made for my friend Em who is having a boy sometime soon—the due date is a moving target, but he’s expected sometime (they can’t stay in there forever).  My niece also had a baby earlier this month, and a good friend of mine, Mike, became a dad for the first time this summer.  For Mike, I wasn’t sure if I was going to make him something—I haven’t seen him in forever, but he and I go way back (I remember him as a wee boy), so it’s just so sweet to see him as the awesome adult I knew he’d be.  So here’s what I made for his little boy…..

The blanket, a crochet pattern that I use for nearly every baby blanket I make (really, I need a new schtick, but it’s just so quick to make).  And the bear, which is a new addition to my repartee.  I pretty much love this little guy, and plan to make more.  The best part about him and the blanket is that he’s made from yarn that is made from recycled plastic bottles—which is cool, although I will never figure out how they do that.  And it’s all machine washable—ideal for spit up, blow outs, dirt, strained peas, and tears from mom and dad. . .

Do I expect everything I make to become an heirloom?  Oh, god no.  That’s why I make everything machine washable.  I want parents to USE the gifts I give them.  And would they probably use a bouncy seat or a wipe warmer more often?  Probably.  But you can’t snuggle a wipe warmer.  At least not without some discomfort.