When we first start a martial arts class we are filled with unrealistic expectations. We believe that we will pick up physical skills faster than is humanly possible and many of us compare our progress with images we have seen in the mass media. The fact of the matter is we are all human. Each of us has a unique set of attributes that makes us who we are. Some of us are naturally athletic and others are more analytical. No matter what are strengths (or weaknesses) we will continue to grow in the martial arts and life as long as we preserve.

This summer will mark my forty-fifth year as a martial artist. In that modest amount of time I have been fortunate enough to meet a number of the contemporary legends and leaders of the martial arts world. Great men and women who through their sweat and sacrifice have accomplished amazing things. These visionaries helped shape a generation. While keeping their roots firmly planted in the past, they helped define a new paradigm for the practice and growth of their individual styles.

One of the most difficult things about owning and running a martial arts school is knowing when to drop a difficult client. At some point we have all tried to hang on to a individual past the point where we knew that the relationship was probably not good for us personally or for the school. Unfortunately, when you try to salvage a toxic business relationship the fallout can have dramatic effects. Often the school owner or instructor struggles with the concept of trying to fix things versus parting ways. Few of us want to admit failure and this can be our downfall. We can not accept responsibility for the actions of our students beyond what occurs during a class we are teaching. Character or lack there of is a difficult concept to teach in a hour long increments.

I admit it; I was a closet Mixed Martial Arts (MMA) fan. For years I watched the Ultimate Fighting Competition and PRIDE bouts on television. I enjoyed watching the sport and marveled at the conditioning of the athletes. It was a testosterone kick for the caveman lurking inside of me. It wasn’t until the reality shows started appearing that the sport started to lose some luster for me. While I still was impressed by the conditioning of the athletes, I became less and less impressed by the trash talking and game playing that was taking place on these shows.

There is no light without darkness. There is no man with out woman. There is no hard without soft. It is a basic philosophical construct that can be traced back thousands of years to ancient China and a book called the Yi Jing or book of changes written in the Zhou Dynasty. Yin and Yang symbolism has taken a role in all facets of eastern civilization from religion to politics to medicine and to the martial arts. Use of this symbolic paradox was a way for ancient cultures explain the natural world and to understand their role within it. The theory of Yin-Yang postulates that the world is material and that this material world is constantly evolving as the result of the mutual action of two opposing material forces.

The development of Chinese Qigong can be viewed by looking at four different periods. The first period probably started around the time the “Yi Jing” (Book of Changes) was introduced in the area 1122 B.C., and lasted until the Han dynasty (206 B.C.). At this time Qigong practice entered into the second period, which was sometimes called the religious Qigong era and it most probably lasted until the Liang dynasty (502-557 A.D.). It was during this period that Qigong began to be developed for martial purposes. This began the third period Qigong, that of martial Qigong.

My first introduction to the martial arts came through movies. Iconic stories like “Enter theDragon” and “Billy Jack” had helped bring martial arts into mainstream American culture and fueled my imagination with possibilities. I wanted to learn how to do all the amazing things I saw at the theaters. Unfortunately for my youthful self reality wasn’t nearly as glamorous as the films had made it out to be.

The first time I walked into a Dojang, I was startled by the contrasts. The smells, the sounds, and quick whirling movements burned into my brain and I was hooked. I was nervous and excited all at the same time. I soon found out that the road to competence was paved with a lot of hard work, sweat, bruises, and dedication. My story and my progression through the ranks were uniquely my own.