I was teaching in class the other night and we were working on forms or katas.  Many times I stand up front and watch the students as they practice and I can spot right away a missing step or an unfolded hand, or a foot turning in the wrong direction.  After so many years of forms practice and teaching, it is second nature for me to see the slight missteps the students make.

On this particular night, I decided to do the forms with the class instead of just watching.  I knew a few of them wanted to polish their performance or needed help remembering some of the motions, so I slowed things down with some narrative as we went along.  When you slow movements down, they feel different.  More exaggerated, more intricate.  This hand goes here, this foot steps there, yell here. You must think and do and teach at the same time.

Twice that evening, in my teaching, I lost my place.  Twice the students corrected me.

That was good and bad.

Good:  They know the direction and pattern of these forms! Excellent!

Bad: Geez, I really failed.  They are looking at me with puzzled looks on their faces.  “Sensei, isn’t it this way?”

In the midst of my own personal discouragement, I did what I do best.  I thanked them and applauded them for knowing the forms and for helping me.  I believe it is always my responsibility to accept fault when it happens, then move on.  I will not be perfect.  Ever.

They smiled.  I knew it was okay.  They weren’t going to hold it against me forever.  Even a Sensei loses her place and falters on occasion.

I knew exactly what had happened. Poor sleeping patterns lately have made me feel a little more exhausted than usual.  Fridays are a long day, going to my day job first, then working the karate program another few hours that evening.  But, even for me, there is no such thing as excuses.  Not when you are the Sensei.  The only reasoning I can allow is that sometimes, you falter.

I don’t really want to call it a failure. That description is so critical and strong.  I do know that if I had at least gone through the katas in my mind before class, I would have faltered less.

Life is just like katas. Steps and movements and twists and turns that make up days, that turn into weeks, then months, and years.  Each moment is a step to the next, good or bad, successful or not.  You make your share of mistakes as you gather up the moments and you fumble through them and stumble over them until you feel okay again.

My few missteps in class, even though I was the leader, are going to stick with me for a while.  It’s just that way.  The outcome is that I will always do better next time.  I know that if I’m tired, I need to prepare a little better so I don’t make that mistake again.  Even leaders make errors but the reason they make good leaders is that they don’t cover up a mistake or mask it.  Just as I faced the students and apologized, and didn’t pretend I was doing things just fine, my leadership points soared. They now know they can trust me.

It’s not easy to address mistakes.  They always feel dreadful. To put a positive spin on it, though, mistakes are what push you to be better.  It is the contemplation of the discrepancy that brings you to the next level.

Your journey as a human being follows a similar path. A mistake, a troubled feeling, anticipation, regret, agreement, acceptance, forgiveness.  There is a resolution, or a light bulb that illuminates in your mind, that helps you get back on your feet.  Don’t dwell on what you have done, but reach for an answer and move into the next moment with thoughtfulness and confidence.  From there you will find belief in yourself again, knowing that small obstacles in your life mean very little in the big picture.

The few mistakes I make in class every now and again mean very little in the big picture of my dedication and commitment to teaching. How many times in all of these years have I really made those kind of mistakes?  Does the value of what I teach, day in, day out, outweigh these small inconsistencies?  Can I be honest and accept a mistake or two as a challenge to get better; or do I let it dwell in my heart and contaminate the best of me?

Failure comes in all shapes and sizes.  If you really think about it, you fail constantly. From wearing mismatched socks to the gym (me!), to eating the wrong kinds of foods, to not exercising, to spilling the milk, to forgetting to do the laundry, to yelling at the kids for no real reason, or not studying for the next test.  Generally, you don’t focus on those because they have little meaning in the overall picture.  The true importance is the big picture.  What you contribute.  How you act.  What you say. How you say it.

Am I a good leader, a good Sensei?  Am I committed to what I am doing?  Do I strive to teach well, to be personable, fair, and sincere?  The answer is “yes, always.”

Assess your big picture right now.  Ask yourself these questions:

• Am I grateful?
• Do I strive to do my best?
• Do I care about others?
• Am I compassionate?
• Do I treat others fairly and with respect?
• Do I love and cherish my family?
• Am I committed to what is important?

I believe that you will nod your head “yes” to most of these because your answers confirm the purpose of your life.  When you falter in any of these steps, you must turn back around and pick up the pieces. And you always do.

Scrutiny

I often wonder how famous people get through the day.  They are scrutinized on every measure of their lives.  They are  condemned for wearing an ugly dress or for a bad hair day, yelled at for being too fat or too skinny, ridiculed for having too many tattoos, and spied on in their worse moments.  Their personal lives are picked apart in front of millions.  Every mistake they make is up for auction.  Every faux-pas is magnified.

By whom?

By us.

So, when you face an obstacle or a failure, or if you falter or fall down, it is a good time to reflect on how you treat others who do the same.  At times, you are placed directly in the path of others failures and you embrace it. You want to see drama unfold, tears wept, and hearts broken. It’s like a never-ending reality show and personally, I dislike most reality shows tremendously.

I want to raise myself up, to become more like the successful, accomplished people in the world, not drag my mind and conscience through dirt. I don’t want to watch  families fall apart, men turn into women, or people beating each other up, cursing and disrespectful to each other. This is the antithesis of what I want for my life.  It brings me down.  It is negativity projected through a medium that touches everyone, everywhere.

Of course, if I had a solution to reality television, it would be a reality martial arts show that would cover topics on positive ways to live.  It would include how-to’s on making every day count and words of wisdom from those who have turned failure into success.  Let’s blast how to overcome obstacles and reach goals, not the opposite.  Let’s help each other step up, through fatigue and small moments of faltering or troubled moments, to great big better moments. Let’s all embrace the martial art mindset that so clearly leads us in a specific, encouraging, and hopeful direction.

Rise up.  Not bring down.  I help you and you help me.

Which all brings me back to the evening that I forgot the kata.  I’ve trained my students well.  While they candidly pointed out that I had missed a couple of steps, they also willingly accepted that the mistakes were temporary and they were more than eager to help me.  As soon as I re-grouped and focused, I was my usual self, moving fluidly and missing nothing.  It all rushed back easily and although the mistakes had already been made, they were lost in the translation between acceptance and forgiveness.

I do wish I had been a correct the first time around; but, I feel I will actually be a better teacher from it.  I’m going to think about what I’m doing next time and more carefully plan ahead.  I’m going to make a better effort to be proficient in my teaching at all times, even if I am tired.  I owe that to my students and I owe it to me, too.  I’m going to work through those mistakes knowing they mean very little in the big picture of who I am.  I will accept them, fix them, and move on.

What failure is holding you back?  What mistake is hard to shake?  It is only a small obstacle in your overall good life, so don’t dwell on it.  The best thing to do is to learn from it and see where that learning takes you.  For me, it was a great big reminder that mistakes will happen but they can be used as a learning experience.

Find good role models.  Seek successful moments and avoid that which has nothing positive or rewarding to offer you.  Create a path ahead of you that leads to self-betterment.  From there you will have no trouble believing in yourself even when you make a mistake or two.

One small martial art failure has put me back on track and I’m grateful for it. I’m grateful to have as many chances as I need to Win at Life.

Andrea

 

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