Yellow Belt

I tightened the yellow belt around my waist for the umpteenth time. It's not that hard, I kept telling myself. I had practiced for weeks and this was the most basic form I could do. It's not that hard. But I was nervous. I was so nervous. It's kind of like performing right? I had done that many times before. But this was different, this was new. I had never done anything like this before. Not even six months into the program and I was already competing. What was I doing here? I only signed up because my brother had, and it didn't look that hard when he was doing it. But I was here now, and I was going to do it.

They called my division. Sweaty hands, cold feet. The air condition was suddenly too high and my belt too loose. Tightened it again.  Mind raced through the twenty-move form again. What if I forgot my form? What if I messed up? What if? They gave us the order; I was near the rear of a division of about nine boys my age and belt rank.

Sitting on the hard carpet watching other competitors do their forms. The orange belts did much more advanced forms with harder kicks. The little confidence I had left evaporated; I was going to lose. Better moves, higher difficulty; I'm done. Why bother trying?

It wasn't some martial artist creed that I suddenly remembered. It wasn't an encouraging word from an instructor or fellow student. I don't know what it was. I stood on the edge of the ring, trying to decide whether it was worth it to potentially embarrass myself in front of three mean-looking blackbelt judges and a whole crowd spectators to try to get this win. I am about to look like the biggest idiot right now..

I'm pretty sure my heartbeat was audible as I presented myself to the judges. Must've looked like a deer in the headlights. I gathered myself as I was about to begin. I'm here, now. It's not that hard. Might as well give it a shot. I turned into the first downblock and yelled as loud as I could... The rest was a blur. I bowed to conclude my form to the thunderous applause of everybody watching. Still wore the same shocked look on my face as I received my score, and then the first-place trophy.

I don't remember anything else from that tournament, nearly seven years ago. I do remember those few moments of terror and triumph. I learned something that day. I didn't have to beat those other kids. I didn't have to outkick or outpunch a bunch of superior orange belts. I had to beat me. I had to beat my own fear and doubts. When I took my stand in the ring, it was just me. No coaches, no judges, no opponents. Just me and the mat.  I have to beat me before I beat you.

Abandoned

Sometimes my mind is like an orphanage, or a children's home. An home for abandoned ideas. All just floating around, milling about aimlessly, waiting for someone, for me, to pick them up and make them my own. I go visit sometimes, but like everybody else, I don't have the heart to stick around, to develop them, to take them home. It's pretty sad. And every day it grows. A bright, young, promising little idea walks in those doors dejected and abused because I didn't have the time or the will to grow him up. And so the cycle continues. Every day I make an attempt to bring one of those precious little ideas into the light, five more are pushed into the dark regions of my mind where nobody can see them, to rot and grow stale. Every time I write, that's one child lucky enough to see the light of day. The rest remain, some to never be seen or heard from again. I can't save them all.

Take A Walk

Walking. We do it everyday. The vast majority of us anyway. It's pretty much the most basic form of movement for humans. Walking. Some of us walk much further than others. Some of us walk because we have to, because we have no other way of getting to where we need to go. But when was the last time you walked for the sake of walking?

According to health research and such, walking is supposed to be really good for your health. I'm not going to throw numbers at you, but walking consistently as exercise can lower blood pressure, lower risk for heart disease, increase muscle and bone strength, blah blah blah. Walking is great because literally any able-bodied person can do it. 

Walking is good for mental health too. I discovered this for myself one night last summer when I took a two-hour stroll around the neighborhood to keep myself from punching walls out of frustration. You can read online all the stats about how walking is good for both mind and body, but have you ever taken a walk when you should be pulling out your hair? People don't tell you to "walk it off" for nothing. And it's not just beneficial when you feel like rage-quitting Call of Duty or stressing out over money problems. Anytime is a good time to walk. I like to walk simply to assess what happened during my day and how I can improve upon tomorrow. Walking seems to unlock levels in the mind that you didn't know you had. And you always feel better afterwards, whether you were able to create a solution for world peace or not.

Try this. Wake up early one morning, before it gets too hot. Or wait until evening if you're not a morning person like myself. Put on your shoes, step onto the street and start walking. Simple as that. Go to a park if your neighborhood isn't the greatest or take a buddy with you. Walking for fifteen to thirty minutes a day will do wonders for you in terms of stress relief, mood, heart health and thinking clearly. Turn off the tv, log off Facebook, turn off the phone and go for a walk. The world will still be here when you get back, I promise. Try taking a notepad with you, jot down your thoughts as they come to you. Or simply enjoy being being outdoors for a few minutes. Something about being outdoors is just so freeing; sometimes I honestly feel trapped and uptight when I'm indoors.

Whatever your reason is for walking, it doesn't really matter. Just walk. It works. For me, sometimes walking is the only way to keep my head on straight. And that's okay. On those days when life punches you in the face, rub some ice cream on it and walk it off. Or even if things are dandy, take a walk. Walk, walk, walk.

Coming Home

Welcome back.

Yes, I did leave for a bit. Mentally. I couldn't do it. Then realized I couldn't stay away. I want to give this another shot but I don't know where to start. The words are there, the ideas are there; they're just really jumbled and tangled and confused. Give me a few days to organize my thoughts, rethink things, clean house. Things are always easier for me when thoughts are clear and on point. If not for the sake of good writing, then just for my own mental health. I know, I ran away from home when things got tough but now I'm back. Defeated and ashamed maybe, but I'm here. Starting over.