Totally devoted to the Way

Lately, at the end of class, I've been using my "Sensei talk" to go over what we refer to as our core values. Specifically, I've been talking to the class about dedication.

Keichu-Do means, loosely translated, "totally devoted to the Way". It can, on one level, describe our dedication to our style. For those of us who are Christians, there is an added meaning as well: the name of our style reminds us to devote ourselves completely to Jesus Christ, Who described Himself as "The Way".

We've been talking about what it means to dedicate ourselves to our training. It's interesting that some students, over the years, have professed great dedication and enthusiasm about their training, about Keichu-Do, but have been pretty much flashes in the pan---and have been more lukewarm than hot even during their most intense training.

This puzzles me. I think of one student, who was so "dedicated" as to take up residence in the dojo (well, almost) and watch classes when he wasn't on the floor or couldn't train. He was a regular fixture around the place, even showing up to observe classes when he was sidelined by an injury for a number of weeks. But, despite his wonderful attendance record, his work habits weren't that great. When he was on the mat, he didn't really put forth much effort.

There was a family who attended, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, from two to three classes. They were at the dojo every Friday night for sparring. They arrived early and stayed late, and stayed in the dojo during the hour or longer break between two of their classes. But...they spent an awful lot of class time just standing around or halfheartedly going through a kata or two. Everything they did seemed at a slower speed or with less intensity than the rest of the class.

Then there are the students who are so enthusiastic and WANT IT ALL! As white belts, Keichu-Do becomes a way of life to them. They buy the patch; they buy the T-shirt; they have their gi silkscreened; they---as one of my children once joked---probably wear Keichu-Do underwear. But...the patch never makes it on to their gi. Their attendance in class is sporadic, even as they wax enthusiastic over how wonderful training is, how Keichu has changed their lives, how they are going for their black belts, how they can't wait to compete in the World Championships, how Keichu is the greatest thing since sliced bread, how they have great plans for years of involvement. Their work ethic in class is often unimpressive, but they love to talk about how hard they work and how much effort they are putting forth (effort that, apparently, is not so obvious to the rest of us.) And then, their enthusiasm wanes. After a few months, they announce, "We've been doing this for so long and working at it SO HARD, and we really need to take a break."

Call me baffled. Is that honestly what some people see as dedication?

I don't expect everyone to have the same level of dedication that I do. But I'm unimpressed by what is often jokingly called the "jawbone technique". Don't tell me about your dedication. Show me.

Some students, over the years, have really impressed me with their dedication. Some of them, probably unbeknownst to them, were my role models as I was coming up through the ranks.

Kathleen Marx, wife of our Soke, blew me away as I watched her last six months of intense training before her black belt test. I used a lot of the ideas I gained from watching her. A lot of other people would have used her lack of time, her responsibilities at a demanding job, her erratic work schedule, and other challenges in her life as a valid reason not to train. But her determination gave me determination to try to follow in her footsteps.

The Sanchez Family---they were our role models when we trained for our first World Championships. Their dedication, and long hours of training, was the stuff of dojo legends. We felt honored when we could put our trophies along the same wall as their trophies.

Sensei Martinez impressed me with the obvious results of his years of dedicated, intense training---not only that he was molded into an exemplary karateka, but an exemplary person.

I've seen people struggle to train despite physical handicaps, diseases, and injuries. It's been humbling, and it's a reminder that I need to be less of a whiny crybaby about training when it's inconvient or uncomfortable.

It seems that the truly dedicated people don't really talk about it. They are too busy living out their dedication.

I'm not sure how, or if, an instructor can motivate students to that level of extraordinary dedication. For some reason, Keichu-Do captures some people's very hearts. It becomes a part of who they are. They cannot stop training any more than they can stop being themselves. Keichu is in their hearts.

I thank God for all of those Keichu warriors who have been, and still are, my role models, my mentors, my examples, my inspiration. Not all of them are black belts. I've seen some pretty impressive dedication among a few white belts, and I'm eager to see them accomplish great things in the years to come.