“Our sandals change, but our journey continues on the same.”
Okakura Kakuzo
As I write this, I am two days removed from my sixth lower abdominal surgical procedure in less that three years. There were a couple of close calls and the others were not what would be considered major, but still necessary evils.
The first of these began a two month series of misadventures that resulted in multiple infections, two months missed from my job, over 45 pounds of lean mass lost, with the corresponding loss of strength and endurance. My physique could be best described as “skeletal”. The simple act of making and consuming breakfast tired me out to the extent that I required a nap to recover.
Thus began the long slog to regain what was lost. There was a couple of months just letting things heal. This was followed by slowly building back strength. At the beginning I was unable to bench a pair of 30 lb. dumbbells without great difficulty. Cardio consisted of short walks on the treadmill.
Eventually, things started getting better. By mid-spring I was regaining strength, could get through a mile jog without having to take a walk break, and was starting to get back into the swing of things in the dojo.
Then came autumn.
An exam was followed by a camera being shoved places it wasn’t meant to go. This revealed something that was described as “probably nothing but we should check it out anyway.” The biopsy came back negative but the story was repeated. No strenuous activity for four weeks. More loss of strength and endurance while waiting out the recovery time. More time spent trying to “catch up” to where I was before everything went sideways that first time.
This has repeated itself two more times since then. I’m now on the shelf until the beginning of November before I can really cut loose again.
For three years now, I have been somewhat consumed with “getting back to where I was.” I keep getting close, getting derailed and starting over again.
It has begun to dawn upon me that my preoccupation with getting back to being where I was three years ago might just be a source of frustration rather than a legitimate goal. In many respects I can no longer get back to “where I was” physically than I can wade into a stream expecting to be standing in the same water that I did in 2017. It is far downstream and will never be in this spot again.
There is a somewhat obscure Shinto term “nakaima”. It can be translated to be an understanding that each moment has value. In my situation, I have been cheating my current moments by chasing the ghost of where I used to be.
A second term that I must keep in mind is that of “gaman.” This has a translation that is much less ethereal than nakaima. Gaman is a term for “perseverance.”
So that’s where my life exists. I must keep going but concentrate on the now, not some point in the past. There will still be goals and targets. There is going to be a huge amount of work to do. And if the last three years are any indication there are going to be more bumps and roadblocks on the path.
Part of the beauty of our training in the martial arts are the myriad applications it has in our lifetimes. How we trained in our 20s is not the same way we train in our 60s. One thing that sucks worse than getting older is finally having to admit it to one’s self. While still having all of the self-defense applications as ever, my training now is focused more on maintaining the flexibility and balance that tends to disappear as our hair starts getting gray. So, though I’m still continuing on the path, I’m doin so with different shoes.
Four weeks from now, I will again enter the dojo and spend a couple of hours before class begins working on my own, as has been my habit for decades. I will again start building up my mileage, working toward winning my age group in more 5k races. I will be back in the weight room with the goals of bench pressing my body weight and deadlifting 1.5 times. I will be shooting for 12 pullups in a set (this is a big one since in high school and college I was unable to do just one).
I will train with gaman as my new theme, but working on being my best each day as compared to trying to wade into water that is long gone.
Train well and train hard. It is it’s own reward.