21/03/2024
Five days ago, I found myself doing something I told myself I’d never do again - teach Arnis.
I’d been struggling with motivation for a long time and teaching and training had really become an effort for me instead of the pleasure that it once was. When we lost our daughter in 2018, that flame was well and truely extinguished - not just with teaching but pretty much everything. I quit work and all of the effort and focus that I used to put into training and teaching, I now poured into my small home based business, mainly to numb the grief. Any connection with the martial arts I’ve had over the past 5 years has solely been through conversations with my Son on his own martial journey in HEMA. Now and then he’d show me a technique, it’s application and it would spark something inside me and we’d discuss similar methods within the FMA. I was happy with that, or so I thought. I think there was this small part of me that missed training but felt I’d been out of it for too long and it was easier for me to keep walking away from it, in the opposite direction than it was to go back to it.
A few months ago, Jim asked if I’d be interested in teaching a three hour workshop on Nasubukang Arnis. He’d asked a few times before but this time, I accepted. There were many times in those months when I really regretted accepting the offer. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to go back to it but moreover I wasn’t confident in my own ability anymore. I always had this one rule that I stuck by and that was I’d never teach anything I couldn’t do myself or hadn’t done myself in the past. I wasn’t sure I could go back to teaching and give a good account of myself. It was only 3 nights before the workshop that I picked up a stick again for the first time in five years and started to go through ideas I’d set out for Sunday. Until then, I felt I just wanted to get it done with and leave it behind. I wasn’t expecting to feel confident again about what I’d done for almost four decades. Surprisingly I was now looking forward to teaching again for a few hours.
When I think about it now, on the day, there were times when I felt the words coming out of my mouth were racing out at 100mph, trying to get everything out that had been kept inside for a while and had now found an outlet. Every one who was there made me feel very welcome and I was grateful, am grateful, for everyone giving up their time and hard earned money to come and train with someone they didn’t know and hadn’t seen before. Thank you once again for all of your kind words and support.
I was sitting on the sofa this evening, thinking about this and that and I remember this piece that I’d writen back in 2011. It wasn’t writen for anyone in particular - it was purely a note to myself of things I’d been thinking about at that time with regards to my martial journey. I think this is the first time I’ve published it here. Anyway I think it’s quite apt considering……….
"A silent friend
I have a friend, a confident, who’s walked beside me for two thirds of my life. It’s taken me all of this time to realise that I’ve never referred to him as such or even truly recognised the influence his presence has had on my life. Strange though it might seem, for the most part, I saw him as an “acquaintance” more than anything else.
He’s always been there, standing discreetly in the background, in every momentous occasion of my life from the darkest times when it seemed that I couldn’t find my way out, to the brightest, when I felt like I could achieve absolutely anything – anything life could throw at me I could deal with it. In all of those times, he was a constant for me. When my Father passed away, he carried me on his shoulders like my Dad used to do when I was a boy. He taught me how to fight.
He never pushed me this way or that, never imposed his point of view or advice. He never judged me even when I had already judged myself – more often than not too harshly. Instead, he patiently waited for me to catch up and realise what lessons he was silently trying to teach me.
For thirty years all he did was listen and let me find my own way through. He’s never spoken to me, not a single word. Most times all he did was to hold a mirror up for me so that I might, eventually, see clearly what was rather than what I thought there might be. He listens still. It’s strange that I’ve never regarded him a friend before now considering everything he’s done and all that he’s given me. In truth, I’m not sure why this realisation has came about at this particular moment in time. All I know is that it has and I recognise it.
Maybe I’ve reached a point in my life where I feel that I can’t escape or deny the existence of this relationship anymore. Maybe instead of wanting to secretly run from it like I have for so long, I should embrace it and celebrate its impact on my life.
There are other friends, lifelong friends, more brothers really, who have had an equal presence and influence on my life and you know who you are. Of everything, the greatest gift the martial arts - my silent friend, has given me has been showing me the path to your doors.
June 3, 2011"
I thought he’d left but I think he was just waiting for me again.