The coveted Black Belt! I don’t use my rank as a measure of myself as a Martial Artist, but I have been feeling nostalgic lately. My Karate Black Belt or Shodan, 10 years in the making, has been one of the most difficult yet one of the most rewarding of my personal achievements. I can’t help but reminisce about the transformative journey to it. It was a journey that saw a shy and unathletic boy become a confident teenager who had reached the pinnacle of fitness.
Starting out as an enthusiastic white belt, I had no idea what I was in for. Learning the basics, adding to the never-ending list of katas and getting pummelled during fierce kumite sessions, week after week .. after week. The more I failed, the more I wanted to succeed. This intrinsic motivation kept me coming back for more. Don’t get me wrong! There were times were the failures cut so deep that I seriously considered giving up. I had confessed one too many times to my parents that I was not good enough and that I did not want to continue. I am glad that I got the necessary resistance to persevere and continue.
Slowly these little defeats turned into little wins. I worked harder, day and night, before and after school. I laboured endlessly while thinking about my peers who were sailing through and who made light work of what seemed so unattainable to me. Soon I had surpassed even them, moving up the belt ladder. By the time I was 3rd Kyu (first level of brown belt), I could perform the full repertoire of katas in my sleep and had become one of the best fighters in dojo for my age.
I didn’t realise it then, but the training gave me structure and sharpened my mind. I was not only excelling at Karate but also excelled at my academics. I was confident enough to petition to represent my school mates at the school’s leadership bodies and performed my duties diligently with the discipline that was bestowed on me by my Martial Art.
The most difficult training was yet to come. Although I had reached a great level of fitness by my standards, the training demanded more. I suffered through physically and emotionally draining sessions which had now ramped up from 2 days a week to 3. The overall volume and intensity of the training pushed my mind and body to its limits. On reaching these limits, I found new sustenance in my Spirit. My Spirit propelled me forward when my body and mind had enough. I was able to tap into an endless reservoir of energy that was harboured deep within me, which I used to execute repetition after repetition without any conscious thought for my trembling and pain-filled body. After each training session where we closed out the final Mokuso, I was a sweat-drenched pile of meat. My lungs burned, my body ached and my Karate-gi was 3 times heavier having soaked up all the sweat from training. I hobbled out of the dojo on most days, and my hands trembled as I tried to shower.
At the time, it felt like the hellish training had broken my Spirit. I felt dissatisfied with myself once again and doubled down even harder. Little did I realise that in order to strengthen my Spirit I had to break it down just as one does with muscle. I learnt to call on my Spirit well before my mind and body was spent, extracting much more out of my training sessions. I worked harder at home and began running to ramp up my cardio and benefited positively from these training loops. I trained hard, ate well and slept like a baby, having just one goal in mind. To build myself into a complete Martial Artist who was strong in body, mind and Spirit.
I recall how chaotic my mind felt during the strenuous training sessions. It was panic stricken as it searched for an escape, away from the impending doom that it predicted for my body. With time, a powerful calm was born out of this chaos. I approached training with an unprecedented flow that allowed me to soak up the skills like a heavy-duty sponge. My progress became exponential, and I even received approving nods from my Sensei who I shared a complicated relationship with. This newly found calm was a superpower. I was felt and noticed when I entered rooms. My tournament rivals were disheartened at my entry into competitions. I was a force to be reckoned with.
Then came the day I was invited to grade for my black belt. The magnitude of what I was to embark on, made me a nervous wreck. I soon realised that I was right to be nervous. What ensued was 4 gruelling hours of a black-belt grading.
The first hour was devoted to physical exercise, designed to stress and deplete the body. This physical test was a precursor to another hour of basic drills where I repeated the wide variety of blocks, punches, elbow strikes and kicks sequenced strategically with their most optimal stances. The next hour was devoted to the execution of all the kata that we had learned from least to most advanced. Finally, an hour more of a constant barrage of kumite with the black belts that came before me. Fresh fighters whose aim was to knock me down and whose intentions were to do it in a way that I would not get up. I battled and fought for my survival with everything that I could conjure. It was unbelievable how the skills I had learned surfaced at just the right times to keep me in the fight.
When it was all said and done, a wave of pride and emotion had swept over me. I would not know the outcome of my efforts until the end of the month. The grading panel had to make their deliberations before letting me know whether I was successful in joining the elite group of black belts in my dojo.
The day had finally come where I was to learn the outcome of my advancement. I was surprisingly calm and ready to accept either outcome. I felt that undergoing and surviving the grading process was winning enough. I was tremendously pleased when I was called up to receive my massive certificate and my black belt branding my first name in Japanese kanji.
It was my honour to have been given the unique privilege of taking this journey and receiving its bountiful gifts. My black belt is the material representation of the skills, mental fortitude and Spirituality that has been imbibed into me. It represents the fire that forged and transformed me and it is one of my most prized possessions.
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