Relax....don't sweat it.

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object.  That is every spring breakup for me. It is the time of year where the winter work slow down kicks into high gear following break up.  Its the period of time where full steam Kung Fu meets the requirement to feed my family and self with a work schedule that takes me away from home for many days at a time.

This year it is sure to be a collision of astronomic proportion, with the addition of the I Ho Chuan and UBBT.  My nerves are getting shot even thinking about which is going to give.  I come from a long line of worriers, and telling me not to worry so much is like asking you to quit breathing oxygen.  I am fortunate enough, however to not be in this alone.  I had a great discussion with a Sifu today which led to more thinking.....I am going to enjoy  rereading this in December.

Thank you Sifu Regier for your wise advise and wisdom.

Cupcake for Change

Today I baked a cupcake.  After spreading the delicious frosting and sprinkling the top with Pringle chip crumbs (how else do you make a cupcake more tasty?) I had a hard look at the tasty morsel.  It just didn’t fit into the Kung Fu regime.  I had to give it away.

Now here is the dilemma.  There are only two people available to give it to.  One person is a known thief.  The other is a known liar.  Both people can’t be trusted.  What do I do?  Rather than show favour to either person and in a sense condone there action, I decide to keep the cupcake, and allow it to spoil.

Hmmm.  I think about it some more and figure by holding on to the cupcake it is giving each person an incentive to steal less, or reduce their slander  in hopes of winning the cupcake the next time I bake.

April 23^rd is election day.  On April 19^th I had a debate with my wife that rivalled those of the provincial candidates.  Her point was very popular with the majority of people I have spoken with.  Her point:  If I do not exercise my right to vote, I forfeit the right to complain about government decisions. 

I don’t agree with this at all.  If I have listened to the debates, researched the party platforms, listened to the promises and accusations and know the MLA’s in my riding, I have done some homework and am involved.  If I decide to not cast a ballot on election day, it is not because I would rather stay home and watch TV.  I believe if I really do not agree with the policies of the running parties, there are two options. 

The first is to run for the provincial leadership myself.  Because I have no talent in politics, and would run the country into the ground, that leaves one other option.  It is my responsibility to withhold my vote and give the parties an incentive for change.  Let’s face it, the 40% that typically do not participate could mean a majority government for some party.  That is a pretty big carrot.  The catch to this however, is that I must also be active in informing my MLA and the other candidates what needs to change in order to win a vote from me.  

All this been said, I will be casting a vote on Monday, but I still believe that a no vote can still show activity in politics providing it is done with the right intent.

By the way, I won the debate, strutted down stairs with my chest puffed out and made my bed comfortably on the couch.

One more confused voter:  Vince Krebs

BIG BAD BIKER

Wrapped up like a pretzel, I freed his legs from the frame, dusted him off and tended to his war wounds.  He is no Lance Armstrong.  Then again, how could I blame the boy knowing his genetics.  He is definitely set for the same love hate relationship that his father has with the bicycle. 

Watching my son weave down the street on his bike with parked cars on either side is frightening.  I can’t help but contemplate whether to get better insurance or just start an autobody and paint shop.  While seeing him wobble to and fro today I remembered my own history.

5 years old. My first bike was a dark blue beauty with a banana seat- Dad let me go, and I ran into the apple tree in the yard.  One damaged apple tree.

11 years later.  Bike was a borrowed BMX with sleek aluminum and a half inflated tire tube tied to it. – Rode that bike down the hill and off the dock into the lake.  One lost BMX.

1 year later.  Bike was a snappy green beauty.  40km an hour and a fallen tree across the trail tells the story.  One broken collar bone, and one broken wrist.

6 years later.  Bike was a second hand gray beauty bought on a student salary.  Rode in front of a Ford Thunderbird.  One spine board and ambulance,  one four foot bruise, and one expensive traffic ticket.

4 years later.  Bike was a silver beauty.  Riding on the sidewalk with one hand holding a pizza box. Decided to use the left hand to shift gears on the right handlebar.  One scraped shoulder, one ruined pizza, and one white van with very good brakes.

April 12, 2012.  Bike is a snappy blue, borrowed from my wife.  Riding in the trees, with the wind in my face and thankful to be alive.  One wonderful ride, ZERO regrets.

Hammer, Anvil, Stirrup

Yesterday I fell down the stairs.  The day before, I walked into a door frame.  I prop myself by the wall to avoid any vertigo.  Hammer, Anvil, Stirrup.  These three little bones of the middle ear control one of the essential things to human life; balance.

Just because you see me prop myself against the wall in a Kung Fu class does not mean I had a run in with Jim Beam.  I have a ruptured ear drum.  One of the consequences is a loud humming that hasn’t gone away for six days and hopefully only a temporary loss of hearing.  While that sometimes works to my advantage when the kids are on the last straw, or I’ve been asked to take out the garbage, it can be enough to drive a person crazy.

The humming is obnoxious, mostly because it interferes with the voices in my head.  Just kidding.  Kung Fu however is one of the only things that draws my focus and concentration away from the humming.  I have to say it has been therapeutic.  If you see me in the kwoon for the next little while, I am there for therapy, however try to avoid being around me if you see a weapon in my hand.

Simply Kung Fu

I somewhat resent the fact that I didn’t grow up 100 years ago.  On the back of a buckskin, colt 45 slung to my side.  There is something about the simplicity of the old west.  If you liked it, you drank it, if you loved it, you married it, if you hated it, you shot it. If your horse threw a shoe, you rode to the next little settlement and hired a blacksmith.  Ahhh, there is something you don’t hear much anymore.  A true craftsman, taking hard parts of the earth and skillfully molding them to good use.

I have a friend that is a shop teacher.  He can talk for a solid hour on the qualities of a single species of wood.  The smell, the texture, durability, workability.  Today I headed to a wood store for a very small project I have decided to complete.  I fell neck deep in understanding regarding the fascination about something so simple.  There is something very grass roots about shopping for just the right piece of wood in a specialty shop.

 

Simplicity is another attractive part of Kung fu.  Crafted a thousand years ago.  Simple, yet complicated.  Raw, yet graceful.  Fluid yet powerful.    You take it everywhere, yet carry nothing.  What a fantastic art.

240 Volts Otta Do It

This week my reflection was on improvement.  Looking through some of the old photo albums around home, I came across a picture of me sparring in the first SRKF Tiger challenge.  Sporting a very shiny yellow belt, throwing a front thrust kick with my heel lifted during the execution of the technique.  This week and several years later while kicking a bag with a partner, Sifu pointed out the lifting of my heel during the execution of the kick.  I guess all has not changed in that period of time....but some things have. 

Take my I Ho Chuan weapon for example.  Day after day of smashing the weapon into my forearms and forehead, I got wiser.  Pain is an excellent motivator for improvement. Improvement is most accelerated when you are forced to pay attention to detail.  I got to thinking what would have happened to my sloppy kicking technique if I received an electric shock every time my heel came up.  I bet the problem would have been solved in a day.

I am thinking, however, that there are better ways for quick improvement over a car battery and alligator clamps.  I am thinking the answer is good old fashioned peer scrutiny.  Putting yourself out there.  Taking a chance every now and then.  Perform a form in front of peers.  Have a Sifu critique your kick.  Lead a warm up. Sure criticism can sometimes be more painful than Voltage, but lets face it, we are all out to improve, and nobody is a master at everything.

I have realized the importance of our training mates and it goes way beyond common goals and values. Thanks to all those at SRKF for your keen eye for detail when mine were mostly glossed over.  

Swims Like a Hammer

Today I faced.....the pool.  Mind over matter I thought.  It’s all in your head I thought.  Just jump in, lots of mammals swim in water I thought.  Survival instinct will kick in I thought.  So after thrashing for three minutes with my head under water, my hand miraculously found grasp of some form of yellow ducky flotation device.  

What kind of a lucky day am I having, this pool for some reason has floaty mats and pool noodles all over its surface! Pulling my near drowned body onto the side, there was the answer. A sign as clear as day.  'NO DIVING  1.0m'.  I knew it, this water was 1 mile deep and too treacherous for anyone to swim, that must be why all the odd flotation instruments, they were probably thrown in to save at least a hundred other people that probably already drowned. 

To be truthful, I am not useless in water.  I actually have had more swimming lessons than most.  If you drop me in the middle of a lake, I will get to the shore, even if it means crawling the distance along the bottom.  But it is something I feel I have failed at and turned my back on.  It has been a dark spot on my record for as long as I can remember.  Now it is a personal goal of the I Ho Chuan.  

I have an OK stroke, a decent kick, and I float slightly better than an anvil.  The problem is, breathing.  If I could channel the energy my brain puts into blocking my breathing mechanism during swimming, I would be able to bend spoons......