Of Martial Arts And Pigs

So last week was a good week for testosterone.

One of the things I haven't done is been to my sword class in several months. This causes me stress on many levels, not the least of which is this sense of abandoning my teacher. Since I've gotten larger my uniform doesn't fit as well, so it is more difficult to do some of the forms. Most forms in my iaido class start from a kneeling position. On series of moves have you moving from what is called tatahiza. This position requires the practitioner to completely bend his left knee so that his butt is resting on the inside portion of his/her left foot, and the right knee bent, pointed almost straight up, with the right foot almost flat on the ground. It is extremely difficult for westerners to do. This westerner in particular has had knee surgey on his left knee. I can't bend it that far, and even in shape I'd worry about snapping the tendon that replaced my torn anterior cruciated ligament, (ACL).

The other thing is that this martial art iaido, which is about drawing and cutting with a sword is more esoteric, more cerebral. It is a more of a martial way, by which you improve yourself through the rigors of training. Could you use some of the awareness skills developed to avoid confrontation. Yes. In 21st century Earth are you likely to use a sword to defend yourself. No.

I've recently had renewed interest in an Israeli martial art called Krav Maga. I won't go into great detail, but it is a dynamic, primarily a striking art, that uses the body's natural responses to help orchestrate fast, and brutal defenses tailored on ending the fight quickly. Gotta say I group up being afraid of confrontation and fighting. This calls to me because the system is supposed to let you end things quickly. That's good for me because I don't want to be in a fight at all, I just as soon get it over with quickly, with minimal damage to myself hopefully. I took an introductory class nearby. It was the lowest level class, but let me tell you it was very dynamic. In that hour I learned the effectiveness of a palm heal strike, punching with your fist vertical, three types of elbows, and two types of knee strikes. Not bad for an hour. Still I learned that I will probably need a right knee brace of decent quality to support my right knee that got sprained a few years ago. That's the only negative. They also offer various fitness classes, and I like the idea of really using my martial training to help slim me down.

The other thing I did was drive down to Salado to a ranch that specializes in importing game animals for people to hunt. My dad was there hunting feral pigs, which I found out are a nuisance animal, not native to this country. Because of the rate they reproduce, and the damage that they cause to farms and livestock, their hunting is encouraged, sort of like "license to kill gophers" (movie reference), but this time it was pigs.

So I get there by 8:30 on a Friday night, fighting through Dallas rush hour traffic. I meet my dad and this client/friend of his Paul. Paul is a hunter. Paul and my dad are from Massachusetts. Both of them sound like they just walked out of the original Dunkin Donuts in Quincy with a coffee "regula and two krellas." You see in Massachusetts the "R" has been officially dropped from the end of any word that requires it. For me the accent is pain full to heaah (translation = hear).

So we load up in this 4x4 golf cart. I'm in the front with my rifle pointed muzzle down at the floorboard, with the guide driving, and my dad and Paul are in the back. We go tearing off. Dad and Paul tell me that these things move fast and won't sit still for long, and that I may have to shoot one in the ass. I told them that wasn't going to happen. I already set parameters for myself. I would only take a quality shot, i.e. somewhere just back of the shoulder. If it didn't happen so be it. Part of me was a little nervous. The last time I killed an animal was a chicken in the Army, the better part of 24 years ago, (where does the time go?). I remembered trying to decapitate the chicken with the edge of my boot. Didn't work so well the first time, and I empathized with the chicken suffering a little. I'm not a greeny or environmentalist, but I do believe humans have stewardship over the animals, and though we need to kill them for food, that act should be done in the fastest and simplest way to avoid any unnecessary suffering.

So after chasing down two groups of pigs, and failing to corner one that separated itself, we came in contact with a third group. I saw, what my guide described as a good sized pig, standing broadside to us at about 50 yards at night. Using iron sights, and the light attached to my rifle I lit up the pig aimed and fired, and it went down. At 50 yards it looked small, however when we drove up on it, the guide said it was about 120 pounds. Not bad. The bullet had entered just behind its left shoulder, but did not exit.

When I got up on it I really didn't feel much of anything. Maybe if I'd been 14 and not 44 it would have. The pig twitched a little, but within a couple of minutes it was dead right where it stood. I was glad it didn't run. We loaded up the pig and went back to the bunkhouse.

The best part of this wasn't shooting the pig, though I have to say the coolness by which I did it still interests me. The best part was my dad telling me what a great shot I made, that it had been the best made in the last couple of days. The pig he shot required him to shoot it twice. Paul was bow hunting. I'm told he's an accomplished hunter. He put 3 arrows with broad tips into his pig, and it ran, a testimony about how tough these animals can be. He ultimately had to shoot it TWICE to finish it off. I'm no hunter but to me if you hunt these animals with a bow, you should really make a precision shot that drops the animal. Paul's pig may have been tough, but it suffered.

Anyway my dad recounted the story again, and again. Really impressed by how cool and collected I was. I tried to shake it off as 25 years of professionally shooting guns, and beginners luck. My dad just shook that off, telling me you get plenty of guys who hunt, and at the moment of truth they start to shake and can't take the shot. For me the moral of the story is that it doesn't matter if your 14 years old or 44 years old, hearing your dad being impressed with you feels pretty darn good.

So update, (since really I finished the pig shooting portion of this post on April 4th), my dad showed my brothers Sean and Calvin pictures of the me standing near the pig I shot. They are very excited. It sounds like Dad, Sean, and Calvin will be coming to Texas next December for a couple of days, so that the four of us can do this together. Watch out pigs, the Brown Boys are coming and your days are numbered.

Krav Maga on a Wednesday, and shooting a pig on a Friday. Last time I had this much testosterone I was at basic training at Ft.Benning, Georgia the fall of 1986.

Good night.

Best,

Dave

A Big No to Saying No!

So yes still at 48.5 inches as I've been for over a month. Oh and this entry is over four days late. Gym time this week equals 20 minutes of stair stepper this past Tuesday. On Wednesday I attended a Krav Maga class. More on that later.

So any one who may read this as well as my previous posts might be saying to him or herself, "What's up with this guy, why doesn't he just stick to what he says he's going to do and do it, instead of me having to read 5 posts about why he can't lose inches around his fat ass, (waist actually)? Seriously!'

Well my astute reader the above would require something called integrity. I'm proud (sic) to say that I woefully lack this commodity. Integrity is about honesty. Really it's about being honest with yourself and who you are. Did I mention that I have a fantastic penchant for laziness as well? My procrastination is almost an art form. My lack of organization is legendary.

You see when you lack integrity and can't keep your word to yourself, the truth that you are able to tell yourself is all the negative things that are present within you. It is true I am all of the above things, but is it really who I am? No like anything else they are parts of who I am, albeit not my favorite parts. They are certainly not the dominant parts. But when you lack integrity these thoughts can consume you, until all the things that you like about yourself seem to have faded. Until the only thing you trust about yourself is your inability to keep your own word to yourself. Sadly when we do this to ourselves, we find it becomes easier to not being honest with others. Our outlook then becomes more jaded, because we start losing faith in the trustworthiness of other people, because we assume they are like us.

Think about how highly we revere people that actually do have integrity, and can be trusted that their actions and words coincide. I think that's because truth is rarer than finding a sip of water in the middle of the Sahara desert.

I want to be someone I can trust.

So earlier I listed a bunch of things that I am. Here are some things that I also am. I'm a hard worker. I care about other people. I'm very smart. I'm funny. I have a good heart. I come from a good family. I have been imbued with a fair share of creativity and talent. I'm a risk taker of sorts. Not the kind of risk like skydiving. I'm talking about the kind of risk where you take on a job that you don't know everything about, and you willingly tackle it, similarly as changes come to that job I willingly embrace them.

To me this blog is a risk. I have very few readers, mostly because I've told very few people. Ironically few know because I wanted to build up blog posts, and thus my integrity with completing it, afraid I wouldn't do anything. So far three people know. Still as I stated before the blog is really for me. If no one else reads another word I am ok with that. As long as that no one else doesn't include me. For me it is building up integrity in something each week. That I personally looked back and see that I've done something for myself. I do take satisfaction in completing my posts, and sticking with it.

The truth most of the time is not pretty, and that's o.k. to. Even though I haven't made close to my inches lost as I would have liked so far I feel writing each week helps me get to that goal, because it's a form of accountability in maintaining integrity with myself. So reader be forwarned, the inches will come off, and it will be a slow and arduous process. This process might be me losing two more inches over a six week period followed by six more weeks of nothing. As I said I'm in this for the long haul. I've found in getting older and more mature, is that I have a greater wisdom combined with a resolve that what I want won't happen overnight, but likely over years. I'll be here no matter. Oh yeah I can be very stubborn, a trait that can be a double edged sword, perhaps a double edged life giving sword. Figured I would end this post on a pithy note. Done.

Just Say No

So this post is late, very late. Usually my posts are done on Sunday nights. It is now Thursday morning. Like I said late. This is greatly due to Spring Break Fever, and a natural laxsidasical proclivity I seem to have.

So 48.5" is the number to beat. I am not moving up or down, largely because I'm not moving as much, and my food choices, though hardly terrible, are not light enough to have a positive impact on my waist shredding.

Here's my main problem, just saying "no" to my self indulgence. As I stated to my therapist I don't drink alcohol, don't smoke cigarettes, and I don't do drugs. However I feel that my inability to say "no" to myself in the face of food, and money matters is every bit as self destructive. He stated that it seems like I refuse to invoke my inner parent. Strangely years back I was informed that many of the decisions we make are manifested by the fears that we have/had as a child. Fear of not being loved, not being good enough, smart enough, not having enough money. Fear. So I would say that a fearful 9 year old version of myself continues to make decisions for me.

I definitely no where my inability to say "no" started. I was in the Army fresh out of high school. My first real grown up job. Now as a private in the Army I wasn't making a whole lot of money. Still I never regulated myself. I spent haphazardly, didn't save, didn't say "no." I remember justifying to myself that since I did without as a child, as an adult I would spend my money, (notice I didn't say save), as I saw fit. Though it may have seemed sophisticated to me at the time, it was a choice made by that sad, fearful 9 year old. A nine year old that didn't know to say "no."

I had acquired a $5000 bonus when I had joined the Army. On December 22nd, 1986, my last day of basic training, I received that bonus check, minus taxes, (didn't know my governor and president had enlisted with me). It totaled $3991. It was the MOST money this 19 year old had ever seen. I was actually good about putting it in the bank and not touching it. Over the course of two years I spent almost $2,000 dollars of it. In May of 1988 my mother was moving to Texas to start a new life, and asked if she could borrow the the remaining $2,000 to help start a business, and that it would be paid back with interest. I think it was for Mary Kay. Of course I said yes to the woman who sacrificed and raised me. It would be the last time I ever saw that money. As much as I love my mother I probably should have said "no" to her, but I couldn't because I couldn't say "no" to myself.

A few years ago a friend of mine was able to run a computer simulation for me. I had always wished I'd had the financial insight to invest that nearly $4000 in something like Apple or Microsoft in 1986. My friend was able to simulate this using all of the splits of stock and their increasing value over the years. In 2007 had I invested that money into said stock, (I think it was Apple), that $4000 would be worth over $1000,000 twenty plus years later. Now it's a hypothetical game, and who knows what would have happened between January 1987, and December 2007. Still it's sobering because much of my fear revolves around not having enough money. Imagine sitting on top of that financial nest egg now, especially with Apple stock continuing to rise. By the way, if the previous paragraph sound like I'm condemning my mother for wasting my money, it's not. I also think of how many nice places I could send her to golf. My mother finds true happiness and satisfaction on the golf course. Money spent to keep her on one would be far better spent.

Yet I didn't say "no" to myself enough. That 19 year old had to say "no" more often. As in "no" to spending his Army paycheck, and "yes" to saving more of it. Saying "no" to eating more, (ironically to combat the fear of not having enough money), and "yes" to working out more. Saying "no" to attending a college I couldn't afford, and saying "yes" to myself based on a solid plan that I'd formulated for myself that was financially sound. Here was that plan. Leave the Army, enlist in the National Guard, and enroll in a state school. I would have received my GI Bill benefits, and the National Guard would have paid for my full tuition at a state school. The only thing I would have changed is making Texas my state of residence, and going to school here. Either way I wouldn't have accumulated nearly $60,000 in near crushing debt. I have to say that thanks to my dad, as of 2005 that debt doesn't exist. Still had I said "no" to attending an expensive private university, and said "yes" to my own plan I would have maintained my own adult autonomy, and relied on myself to pay for my education.

I'm not recalling the past in order to mentally beat myself up. There is nothing I can do about the past, save for one thing, learn from it, as someone who purports to like history should do.

For many years I've pursued martial arts, though not really sticking with any, (another story but related to this one). For the longest time I thought that I wanted to learn how to fight, and magically stay free of any pain and fear. The latter two are fantasy, and it's only in the last several years that I grew to understand it, maybe earlier than that, having taken some boxing classes in the 90's, and quickly realizing how slow I was in so many ways. Still the pursuit of martial arts was that pursuit of quiet discipline. I think I'm understanding a little of what that discipline is now. The discipline to say "no" to myself and the happiness and satisfaction that come with it.

Saying "no" to myself is a discipline. With my past experience at not being able to do this consistently, my confidence has ever really grown strong. There have been times where I felt super confident about myself, the period of April 1996 to June of 1998 comes to mind. I was eating right, exercising right, and feeling pretty good. Right until I tore my left anterior cruciated ligament in my left knee. I was on paid medical leave from the Sheriffs department I worked for, and would never go back to. That summer of 1998 I started saying "yes" to eating poorly, when I should have been saying "no."

There is a satisfaction in saying "no" more often than not, with the occasional yes sprinkled in for good measure. I think my friend Melissa demonstrated this, this past week. She wanted a coffee maker called the MoccasMaster. This is the most awesome coffee machine according to her and many a coffee nerd. It is $300. Melissa is great at saving money, but has a difficult time spending money on herself. I do not share this affliction with her. Melissa has the money to purchase this without putting a major dent in her savings account. We hung out on Monday and she bought it. Believe me it was like pulling teeth. The first place only had a display model. So we went to a second place. I think she was hoping secretly that they wouldn't have it, so that she wouldn't have to indulge herself. Well they did, and she bought it. I'm here to tell ya that she is one satisfied coffee nerd. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that she said "no" enough to herself, that this one simple yet extravagant indulgence holds a proportionately greater degree of satisfaction for her.

My sister Stacey is the same way. I think she has an easier time spending money on herself than Melissa. However she will be satisfied with her purchase, and not need to indulge excessively. Case in point, my sister has the same car that she purchased in 1999. It still runs. Admittedly she isn't a car person. However by saying "no" to buying a new car she has freed up money to put into savings, and purchase the occasional indulgence such as hanging out with friends of hers, or most recently ordering an iPad. If you read some of my sisters more "pleasant" Facebook postings, (haha Stace, I know you'll read the blog eventually), it's about enjoying a lot of the simpler things in life that don't require spending money all the time, or over indulging, just indulging a higher quality of life.

Perhaps to enjoy the simplicity of a happier life not rooted in over indulgence, my therapist, and I agree, I have to start saying "no" to some easy things that I KNOW I will do. To build a foundation, "brick by brick" of saying "no" and following through. I think for me this is partly what this blog is about. Though it is late this week I have been consistently since January 1st writing at least once a week, and this is something for me to be proud of. And I feel happier for having done it.

Until next Sunday.

Fear Of The Push

So this week after not so great a commitment to the gym or eating right, my waist is the exact same as it was two weeks ago, 48.5 inches. Yes the "push." I won't complain considering my best gym day was Monday when I lifted in the morning and swam my butt off in the evening. I don't even know what my best eating day was, it may have been Monday. I did start lifting heavier this week, so that's the positive affirmation for my efforts this week.

I don't have a lot of time to post tonight, but I'm going to continue to talk about something that impacts everyone, fear. I'm going to re read what I say here tonight and continue on with it next week, and perhaps for many weeks after.

This weeks fear manifested itself in an e-mail I received from my assistant principal, needing to talk with me in the afternoon, after school. I saw that the principal had been cc'd on said e-mail. I was full of dread, because I know they were going to talk to me about something regarding my job performance. You see, I'm a really good teacher, but I'm not that great of a secretary/clerical specialist. Needless to say they see this as a lack of organization. Unfortunately for this career admin skills are considered critical. A teacher isn't really rated for their teaching ability, but more for their organizational ability. I'll talk more about this in another post. This is not an educational rant. So the short of it is I expected this to be a talk listing my organizational deficiencies, and because of such I'll be fired. You see if I'm fired then I'll be going back to where I was, jobless and broke, only this time in a terrible economy. I would not recover, and life would suck forever! You see with that mindset confidence in myself is completely negated. more about that later.

So anyway I kept eyeing the clock with dread, until 2:50. I thought I would pre-empt my principal by going to the assistant principals office immediately after school, because I knew my principal would be doing afternoon dismissal. Divide and conquer. Anyway my assistant principal was not prepared for my tactic and proceeded with the meeting. She wanted to know how I felt about self containing next year. For those of you unfamiliar it simply means that instead of teaching just science, I'll be teaching ALL of my homeroom students ALL of their subjects. That's right mom and Jen, I'll be teaching math! So I'm on board with this, and have been since the beginning of the year when I was telling my 5th grade department head that the direction elementary 5th grade in our district was to self contain. I could see this in the same way you look down a railroad track and see a distant light of a train getting closer and closer. Well this self containment train hasn't pulled into the station yet, but it's about to.

Well my AP who is an organizational guru, (I'm convinced somewhere in her office are MY educational records, long before she even knew me), is concerned that though I have made strong headway in my organizational skills, said skills may not be strong enough for the requirements ahead. I think she was trying to scare me off, but to my credit I know I can do this. Well the meeting ends with her letting me know that the principal would also like to talk with me. Yikes. In my mind this meeting was meant to soften the blow from when the principal would drop the axe on my head.

I left, but had to come back to the office to sign out for an appointment. In doing so I heard my AP and the principal talking. All I heard was her saying "he's confident about the self containing, but I don't share his confidence," then some garble, and then "discovery science." I left to go to the bathroom, and came back to the office. I saw my principal and thought, let's get this over with. So I asked if he needed to speak with me, and he said yes, but it would wait until tomorrow, because he wanted to talk with me about possibilities for next year. Yeah the possibility that I would be looking for new work next year. I proceeded to head to my therapists appointment. On the way I spoke with three friends, all women. Alison because she's a teacher, Jen because she has supervised people before, and has had to make staff changes, and my friend Melissa, who works in the school, and seems to know EVERYTHING going on there.

My therapist, Alison, Jen and Melissa said I didn't need to fear being fired, (yeah right). Each stated that based on their own reasoning. I have a pretty good intuitive mind, and I'm able to piece things together, it's from reading a lot of detective novels. I remembered hearing science discovery mentioned. This is a class that is taught to all of the grades in the same way music, p.e., and art are taught. It is to enrich students science experience. The great thing is that the class is largely fun and hands on. There isn't any real grading, no high stakes testing, no parents to deal with, and you get paid the same as a teacher. Hmmmm.

I put this theory past Jen and Melissa. Jen thought it might be valid, and maybe I'm destined to teach science. Melissa teaches across from science discovery, and true what I said earlier about her having her ear to the ground, stated that the teacher presently there may not be enjoying it as much as we think, and that she is pretty stressed out. I thought to myself that maybe since this teacher taught 4th grade self contained for a long time, then perhaps my principal wanted to plug her into my 5th grade spot, so as to utilize her experience, and plug me into the science discovery.

Well the next day I see the Principal. He's very complimentary about the progress I'e made, and he's very happy that I'm so enthusiastic about self containing, and the confidence I can do it. The possibility he wanted to, and did discuss with me for next year, me and the science discovery teacher switching spots next year. Melissa and I "nailed it." Though it isn't even close to a done deal yet, I said yes, my principal never saw me smile inwardly just once.

So what does the above story have to do with the theme of fear throughout my life. The short answer is that it has never been as big as I thought it was. More on that later.

On a positive note, I became an uncle this week. My step sister Alecia, and her husband Jeff welcomed their son, Harvey Rogue Fryman to the world at 12:58 p.m. CST on February 29th 2012. He is an awesome baby boy. He is very alert and looks at everything. There is a great pic of him being held by my mother, now known as Nana Judy. They are looking directly at each other, the look on his face is processing who this "one" is. The look on my moms face is priceless. I'll share the origin of Rogue's name later, as explained to me by his dad. It's pretty cool.

Best regards,

Dave