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What saved you?
Jun. 26th, 2024 08:02 amIn school, I was bullied a lot. Secondary school was hell for me from the very first day, because one of the other girls decided to pick on me. It started like this: I chose a seat and was just about to sit down when she slammed her bag onto the table and shouted:"That's my seat!" and wouldn't let me sit.
Since I am a shy person and didn't want to start an argument five minutes after officially starting fifth grade, I simply chose a different seat. But somehow, she decided that I was going to be her target, and she made my life hell. And the class, seeing that she was popular, joined in. The teachers didn't help, some of them even joined in: I was never good at mathematics, especially not when put on the spot and asked to calculate something in my head. Unfortunately for me, this was one of our teacher's favourite games: quickly spout an equation at someone and get them to calculate as quickly as possible. Things like "five times three minus four plus two". Now I can do this, but not when stressed and put on the spot. And when everyone was laughing at me for being slow, he made it worse by calling me something like slowcoach to everybody's amusement. Except mine. And my classmates informed all teachers that I was slow when they asked me to answer in class. Of course it was all fun, everybody was just joking. I was being too sensitive.
But honestly, I wasn't. I can take a joke, but this?
So I stopped speaking in class unless I was called to speak by the teachers. I faded into the background in the breaks. I was surviving.
It was Karate that saved me: in the dojo, I wasn't the "slowcoach", I wasn't bullied or laughed at. I wasn't great, but I was part of something. And it offered structure and a framework of rules, and even some pride in what I could achieve. I embraced it. The dojo is a special place for me. Whenever I moved, one of the first things I'd look for is a dojo. Because martial arts practice offered peace, offered something like a spiritual home. I loved it.
I moved on to Thai boxing some time, simply because I preferred the location of that dojo and the training was excellent. Exhausting, but also exhilarating. I always felt that, as soon as you enter, you turn into equals, no matter what your skill level was. Training takes discipline, or else you risk getting hurt. And so you take care of yourself and your partner/opponent, while also challenging yourself and them.
Unfortunately, osteoarthritis and Thai boxing don't mix. Karate and osteoarthritis don't mix well, either. So now, I'm doing Tai Chi, and it's such a struggle. I can do the movements, but I don't get into any kind of "flow". I'm too rigid, not soft.
I think my past has taught me not to be soft. I'm friendly to almost everybody, and actually, I think I can be very nice, but I'm not soft. I can be compassionate and forgiving, but I don't apply that to myself. I am not kind to myself, because I cannot. I can power through almost anything, I am strong and fairly tough, but I struggle to be soft and kind to myself. Why? Because it feels like giving up what I worked so hard to achieve. Because I prefer to be tough. Last night, the tai chi teacher asked me to keep my hands soft, and while I really did give it a go, I just felt silly. It's not who I am at this point in my life. Does that mean I should stop practicing tai chi? I don't think so. It's beginning to mean something to me, so I think I should stay. Do I struggle? Yes, I struggle a lot. Karate asked me to be fast and supple and strong. Tai Chi wants me to vary between soft and hard, between ying and yang. So far, I don't see how that works. It's either all ying or all yang, I fail to do anything in between. But maybe that's my mission: I am trying to accept this and not see it as a failure. It's something to work on. I'd like to understand it better, so I'm keeping at it. And maybe it'll teach me something more. So far, what I've learned is that I need a different balance in my life. Because if all this didn't matter, why do I think about it all so deeply, and why does it affect me emotionally? I fear that, if I allow myself to become "soft", I'll lose control of my emotions. That I'll go over some sort of edge. I think I'm so tightly controlled that I often don't really know where my emotions are coming from. Why am I sad? Or angry? And maybe, to achieve true peace of mind, I'll have to let it go, let myself be angry or sad or both. I just don't know how to do that.
So maybe Tai Chi will show me a way, or maybe it won't. At the moment, I enjoy the camaraderie and the exercise, and that's good. No bullying in my life at this point. Just Tai Chi. And much as I want to, I don't even have to be good at that. I just have to keep going, and maybe that's the hardest challenge of all. But I do think I'm at the right place, because my damaged knee can take some Tai Chi, and the movement is beautiful and as close to other martial arts as I'll get at the moment, at least without causing myself more pain than necessary. So this is good, I guess. And maybe one day, I'll finally understand what "mindfulness" means - or what it feels like. I do understand the concept, I just fail to apply it...
Since I am a shy person and didn't want to start an argument five minutes after officially starting fifth grade, I simply chose a different seat. But somehow, she decided that I was going to be her target, and she made my life hell. And the class, seeing that she was popular, joined in. The teachers didn't help, some of them even joined in: I was never good at mathematics, especially not when put on the spot and asked to calculate something in my head. Unfortunately for me, this was one of our teacher's favourite games: quickly spout an equation at someone and get them to calculate as quickly as possible. Things like "five times three minus four plus two". Now I can do this, but not when stressed and put on the spot. And when everyone was laughing at me for being slow, he made it worse by calling me something like slowcoach to everybody's amusement. Except mine. And my classmates informed all teachers that I was slow when they asked me to answer in class. Of course it was all fun, everybody was just joking. I was being too sensitive.
But honestly, I wasn't. I can take a joke, but this?
So I stopped speaking in class unless I was called to speak by the teachers. I faded into the background in the breaks. I was surviving.
It was Karate that saved me: in the dojo, I wasn't the "slowcoach", I wasn't bullied or laughed at. I wasn't great, but I was part of something. And it offered structure and a framework of rules, and even some pride in what I could achieve. I embraced it. The dojo is a special place for me. Whenever I moved, one of the first things I'd look for is a dojo. Because martial arts practice offered peace, offered something like a spiritual home. I loved it.
I moved on to Thai boxing some time, simply because I preferred the location of that dojo and the training was excellent. Exhausting, but also exhilarating. I always felt that, as soon as you enter, you turn into equals, no matter what your skill level was. Training takes discipline, or else you risk getting hurt. And so you take care of yourself and your partner/opponent, while also challenging yourself and them.
Unfortunately, osteoarthritis and Thai boxing don't mix. Karate and osteoarthritis don't mix well, either. So now, I'm doing Tai Chi, and it's such a struggle. I can do the movements, but I don't get into any kind of "flow". I'm too rigid, not soft.
I think my past has taught me not to be soft. I'm friendly to almost everybody, and actually, I think I can be very nice, but I'm not soft. I can be compassionate and forgiving, but I don't apply that to myself. I am not kind to myself, because I cannot. I can power through almost anything, I am strong and fairly tough, but I struggle to be soft and kind to myself. Why? Because it feels like giving up what I worked so hard to achieve. Because I prefer to be tough. Last night, the tai chi teacher asked me to keep my hands soft, and while I really did give it a go, I just felt silly. It's not who I am at this point in my life. Does that mean I should stop practicing tai chi? I don't think so. It's beginning to mean something to me, so I think I should stay. Do I struggle? Yes, I struggle a lot. Karate asked me to be fast and supple and strong. Tai Chi wants me to vary between soft and hard, between ying and yang. So far, I don't see how that works. It's either all ying or all yang, I fail to do anything in between. But maybe that's my mission: I am trying to accept this and not see it as a failure. It's something to work on. I'd like to understand it better, so I'm keeping at it. And maybe it'll teach me something more. So far, what I've learned is that I need a different balance in my life. Because if all this didn't matter, why do I think about it all so deeply, and why does it affect me emotionally? I fear that, if I allow myself to become "soft", I'll lose control of my emotions. That I'll go over some sort of edge. I think I'm so tightly controlled that I often don't really know where my emotions are coming from. Why am I sad? Or angry? And maybe, to achieve true peace of mind, I'll have to let it go, let myself be angry or sad or both. I just don't know how to do that.
So maybe Tai Chi will show me a way, or maybe it won't. At the moment, I enjoy the camaraderie and the exercise, and that's good. No bullying in my life at this point. Just Tai Chi. And much as I want to, I don't even have to be good at that. I just have to keep going, and maybe that's the hardest challenge of all. But I do think I'm at the right place, because my damaged knee can take some Tai Chi, and the movement is beautiful and as close to other martial arts as I'll get at the moment, at least without causing myself more pain than necessary. So this is good, I guess. And maybe one day, I'll finally understand what "mindfulness" means - or what it feels like. I do understand the concept, I just fail to apply it...
