Tests

Found out last night at Karate class that my instructor wants me to test for my next belt at the end of THIS MONTH! I have some work to do. While much of the stuff I learned over 15 years ago is coming back to me just fine, I'm not 17 any more, and the physical tests are going to be a serious challenge for this out of shape pappa of 6. I must hit the floor and do pushups and situps like mad if I'm going to have a chance. Tests.

I also learned that I may have caused undue offense to someone in the class. Last week, the instructor was talking to the class about how training for many years is very effective for strengthening the body. As an example, he pointed out that a particular black belt in the class had been training in Karate since 1973. The instructor then asked me, in front of the class, if I remember this black belt from over 15 years ago. Being caught off guard, I said something along the lines of, "Oh yeah... I've been kicked by him before," intending it as a compliment to his fast and powerful kicks that I vividly remember from sparring and working on the bags with him so many years ago. But after class, this black belt comes to me and says, "I never kicked you!" I explained to him what I meant by my comment, and he said something like, "Well, you made it sound like I accidently kicked you, for lack of control, on several occassions. I've always taken pride in my control." Now I feel awful, like I need to publically clarify my statement, but I don't know how to do that without interrupting the class. I actually tossed and turned about this all night last night, feeling like I tarnished a man's good name. All I meant to say is that the guy can kick like a horse. Tests.

Last night I was privy to a conversation about integrity. Someone said that integrity is doing what is right, even if no one is around. Well, this morning I was reminded, like a slap in the face, that I don't always do what is right when no one is around. I have some work to do, and some grace to beg for. Tests.

I heard these song lyrics yesterday: "I don't get angry when my mom smokes pot, hits the bottle, and goes right to the rock." The band is called Sublime, and I do NOT recommend them. Some of the lyrics are rather foul. But I immediately related to these lines. I guess I can't truthfully express those sentiments, however. I do get angry. I just tend to stuff it deep inside, way down into my toes, until my chest hurts and my teeth feel like they're gonna crack from gritting them so tightly. I don't talk too much about my past anymore. At some point talking about my past lost the therapeutic value it once had, and so I just kinda forget about it. Sometimes I'm reminded of things, and think to myself, "Oh yeah, I forgot that happened." Of course, some things from the past aren't exactly "past" yet. Tests.