Throwback Thursday: My childhood love

“To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow.  So do it.”

-Kurt Vonnegut

It was a very chilly Tuesday or Thursday in October 12 years ago when I received an interesting phone call from my best friend, Heather.  She called to see if I would be interested in going to a karate class with her just to watch and to see if I would be interested in joining if I liked it enough.  She said she had gone for the past week and a half and loved it, and she thought I would like it, too.  That was the beginning of it all.

At that time, I was a very shy girl.  I was only 10, I only had a few close friends who I hung out with, and I mainly kept to myself unless someone spoke to me, in which case I answered in a mousy voice.  I looked down when I walked because I wasn’t confident enough to look at people who passed me by.  I didn’t know how I would like being surrounded by complete strangers, but I thought I’d give it a chance because I always thought karate sounded cool.

I got the OK from my parents, even though I was supposed to stay home and help unpack since we recently moved into another house.  Heather picked me up on her way to the dojo (place of practice; gym or school) and we were on our way!

When we got there, I was a little confused.  We showed up to a house in my development and I didn’t quite understand how there was a karate gym in the house.  But sure enough, there was a small one in the basement, and the house was actually owned by a married couple who also participated in karate.  When you entered the basement, there was an area for shoes over to the right and a line of chairs for parents and smaller children to the left.  I took my seat and mainly sat quietly with Heather’s mom Donna while Heather participated.  I immediately fell in love with the style.  I loved everything they did, from their katas (free forms) to their kicks and punches.  I knew that I had to participate.  This was also the first night that I spoke with my Sensei (teacher).

Sensei Donna walked up to me after class and asked if I felt like this would be something I would want to do, and explained the cost and everything with the style.  She also explained everything that makes this style of karate and the school itself unique.  I barely responded to her honestly because I was so shy, but I believed everything she was saying.  I went home that night to speak to my parents and they agreed to let me join temporarily to see if I liked it.  But I fell even more in love once I started, and the rest I suppose is history.

I went through a lot of ups and downs during my 11 years of practice.  They saw me in the most awkward time of my life and still treated me the same.  They became family.  It soon became my outlet whenever I was upset with family issues or stressed over schoolwork.  I somehow managed to do both karate and track/cross-country for a few years, because I refused to give up two things that I loved so much.  I worked my ass off and helped one of my friends get her black belt at 16, the youngest my school would allow students to test for black belt.  When she took her test, she was tested in our dojo here and we had to film it to send it to the head of the style who is located in Nevada.  At the time I was only a yellow belt, and he complimented my style, technique, precision, strength, hard work and discipline, all of which he saw from the video, and I still see that as one of the greatest compliments I’ve ever received.

A lot changed during those 11 years.  I saw many faces come and go, as many students either gave up or couldn’t afford to spend the time or money with the style.  We moved from the small basement to a renovated community building.  I saw many people push through the pain of breaking wood.  I saw several of my friends get over their mind block and pass their tests to get the next belt.  I helped many people advance by helping teach, something that was relatively new to me and completely different to who I used to be.

Truth is, I completely changed during my time practicing karate.  I’m no longer that small, scared little girl who looked down when walking/spoken to/or when speaking to someone.  My confidence grew because of karate.  When other people, especially my Sensei, believed in me, I began to believe in myself.  Some of the younger students even began looking up to me, and that brought so much joy to my heart.  I’m so happy that my love and passion for this sport showed through my performance so that those younger kids felt they could look up to me and want to be like me.  And I feel like this is one of my greatest accomplishments.

In my post from Tuesday, you learned that I’m no longer in West Virginia where my karate school is.  One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was to tell them that I was leaving, and I didn’t know when I would be back.  It was different when I went to college; I had breaks throughout the year and summer to count on to work my butt off for 3 1/2 hours every Tuesday and Thursday.  This time I would try to come back as often as I could, but I couldn’t guarantee many visits.  I cried when I told them I was leaving, and I completely lost it when I told my Sensei, who has done more for me in my life than a lot of people have.

As of two or so weeks ago, I found out that my Sensei was closing the dojo.  Things are getting pretty tight with money, and there are some personal things going on in her life that she has to focus on.  I can’t blame her.  I really can’t.  And I don’t.  But seeing that status right before I went to bed broke my heart.  I couldn’t believe that something that meant so much to me and that changed my life so much for the better was suddenly disappearing.  Whenever I come home, it won’t be there.  If I feel like stopping by to work out (I have the code for the building), I won’t be able to anymore.  But I was kindly reminded by my wonderful boyfriend while I was hysterically crying, it’s just a building.  Sure, it holds a lot of precious memories and was basically a place where I grew up, but it’s just that; a place.  I still hold all of those memories within my heart.  The people will be around.  I have most of their numbers or are at least friends with them on Facebook so I can keep in touch.  Whenever I go back to West Virginia, I’ll can always make plans to meet up with them.  So the dojo is gone, but the people aren’t.

I am so completely blessed to have known so many wonderful people during my time practicing karate, and I’ll always hold them close to my heart.  I’m incredibly blessed to have such an amazing family.

The featured image is an old picture that was taken of the adult class the last night before I went to college for my freshman year.  I’m the fourth girl from the left.  The girl not in uniform is my best friend, Heather.  She had some health issues and stopped participating, but I wouldn’t have become who I am today without her calling me up that night and asking me if I wanted to go watch.  The girl directly beside me to the right is the girl who I helped test for her black belt.  The woman at the end on the left is my wonderful Sensei, my second mom, my friend, my mentor, my hero.  I’ll never forget what she taught me, both in karate and in life.

After I learned the news about my dojo closing down, I obviously texted Donna to see how she was holding up and I asked her if there was anything else I could do for her, considering everything she had done for me over the past 12 years.  Her response brought tears to my eyes.  It’s always nice knowing how much you mean to someone and that you’re the reason why they feel successful.

Here are some pictures from my last class before my freshman year of college.  I wish I had more recent pictures for you, but sadly I can’t find any.

My best friend Heather and I. My two friends Lindsey (left) and Vikki (right).Mr. Dave, who always brightened my days with his smile.

Boz (middle), who was like my brother.  Funnily enough, he knows both of my brothers and worked with my mom, so I’ve actually known him since I was about 7 or 8.  Adrian (right) is Mr. Dave’s (above) son, and he grew up to be so well disciplined from karate.  I’m happy to say he’s like the little brother I never had.  I always loved sparring him!

Last but not least, Donna.  My Sensei.  One of the most wonderful and kind people I have ever met, and did anything and everything she could to help me out as best as she could.

Because Donna is having such a rough time, one of the more recent additions to my dojo family, Sarah, created this page to donate money to help her out during this rough period of her life, and to say thank you for everything she has done for us.  If you even have just a dollar, every donation would help.  Don’t feel like you have to donate anything.  I don’t want to pressure you.  But I do hope you understand how important karate is to me, and how Donna has changed me and my life for the better.  The link is here for you to look at.  If you don’t want to donate or don’t have the money, don’t feel like you have to.  I won’t be upset if you don’t donate.

If you read all the way through this, thank you.  I hope that you’ll share a story about something that you love as much as I love karate, or a sport that you were as passionate about, or even just about a family that you gained that has improved your life for the better.

Throwback Thursday: Getting my tattoos

“Tattoos…are the stories in your heart written on your skin.”

-Charles De Lint, The Mystery of Grace

Four years ago, I was a quiet little freshman in college driving home on a random weekend for my first scheduled tattoo appointment.  I had a lot of cash from graduation cards from my friends and family, and I knew that getting a tattoo is where I wanted to spend some of it.

I was always told by my parents that I could get a tattoo, as long as it wasn’t something mindless and there was some sort of meaning behind it.  As long as it meant something to me, it was okay.

So I began talking to my sister, who is a phenomenal artist (I just wish she sold some of her things), and I asked her if she would be willing to draw a tattoo that would be for my grandmother who passed away of cancer.  I didn’t want to just pick out a random one at a tattoo shop.  I wanted something unique that would mean even more to me.  She agreed, so she drew a pretty flower design (the one you can see on the featured image) and I immediately fell in love with it.  I knew it was the perfect piece to describe how beautiful my grandmother was and everything I felt she represented.

The stars in the tattoo are lavender to signify the cancer ribbon that represents all cancers, whereas the pink of the flower is because her lung cancer (which is a white ribbon- I didn’t want to incorporate white into the tattoo because I’m too pale) spread to her breasts and she had to get a double mastectomy.  So the pink is to represent her breast cancer.

Tattoos are painful, but I was strong enough to not cry because of the pain.  I did cry, but that was for an entirely different reason.  My sister’s ex-boyfriend’s mom (long story, but they stayed close after my sister and the mom’s son broke up) also had cancer, and during the time I was getting the tattoo, she had started going through chemo again.  She was never one to go bald or wear some type of hat or anything to cover up her bare head.  She always wore wigs.  My sister decided to send me pictures of her trying on wigs in the middle of my session and I ended up bursting into tears because I know my grandma went through exactly what she was going through.  Debi ended up passing away two years ago, also from cancer.

That first tattoo was completed in October of 2010, whereas the “so it goes…” was done the following March during my Spring Break from college.  While I was in high school, I had to read Slaughterhouse-Five which immediately stuck with me, despite most of the books I had to read for school.  I don’t know if it was the way Vonnegut wrote it or just the content of the book itself, but it intrigued me.  And I immediately fell in love with how the character would say “So it goes…” whenever something bad occurred.  I connected with the character because I realized we can’t help when bad things happen to us.  We can’t predict it, we can’t prepare for it, and we can’t stop those bad things from happening.  What can can do is learn from it and move forward and help those bad events change us for the better.  I couldn’t help that my grandmother was sick, or that I only met her a few times before she passed away (she lived in Texas and I live in the northeast), but what I could do is remember every single positive memory I had with her while she was on Earth and I cherish them every single day. “So it goes…” to me is that bad things are going to happen no matter what, but we can move on and become stronger because of them.

This tattoo hurt a lot worse than the flower, mainly because I have less fat higher up on my body and the tattoo artist was basically stabbing my ribs with a needle.  I also may or may not have partially blacked out during this process, but this was because I hadn’t eaten much that day.  So on that note: eat before you go get a tattoo.

Anyway, that’s it for tonight’s post!  Tell me about any tattoos you have/the meaning behind them/whether you like or hate tattoos/or a book that stuck with you after you read it!