I have a talented student (or maybe former student - I am not sure at this point). The techniques I have taught him came to him relatively easily. He's young and strong and gifted, the kind of man who makes teachers' eyes light up. Lucky him. This past January I tested him for shodan. He was appropriately nervous, and predictably, he did well. The other judge was as impressed with him as I have been, as other teachers who have seen him in action have been.
But of course there's a problem. He's spoiled rotten. And that's where the fairy story runs out. For months he had been borrowing equipment from me, on the excuse that he was saving up for a different set of equipment (not being satisfied with what he already had). After months of lugging extra stuff around with me, especially through snow and ice, I explained that once he became shodan, he would have to get, and carry around, his own equipment. Right away, I knew we were in trouble. His eyebrows went up. Really? Yes. I'm the teacher, not a pack horse.
After that, he still continued to come to class, but without his gi, wearing gym clothes or workout clothes instead. At first he said he was too busy to do laundry, but eventually he dropped that excuse sometime after it became patently ridiculous. I teach one public class a week for college students. Under the circumstances, I cannot tell them they must dress properly, though the serious amongst them seem to want to after awhile anyway. It is obvious that this guy is talented and knows some advanced techniques, so his dress is, in a way, a sign of disrespect. In a public class, however, I cannot really ask him to dress otherwise. I have let him know through intermediaries (fellow students he has known for some time) that his dress is inappropriate given that he is a ranked student, but to no avail. At this point, the student who almost never missed a practice has been gone for about a month. One of his fellows said he complained of being bored with all of the beginners and doing basic exericises all the time. As I have mentioned in a previous post, every time I do basics (and we have done them a lot lately) I try to do them better. Iai is structured, like a lot of other budo, to be cumulative. After basics, you can learn more advanced things, but without contiuous practice of basics, your advanced practice will decline. No matter what you retain mentally, the execution of technique is what really counts. That's just how it is.
So, this person has talent, but no stubbornness, and the truth is, you need both. Talent is great, but anyone who thinks that it will open all doors is simply wrong. And the shock of realizing that talent alone will not bring you everything you want can be too much for some people.
I am not really talented. As a kid, I called myself a "spaz", as in "spastic." I wasn't really spastic, of course, but that was how it felt to me. A left-handed, chubby, awkward kid who kept going left when everyone else went right. I wanted to dance, but there was not dance studio within 45 miles of where I lived, and no public transportation to take a chubby kid where she wanted to go. Alongside my interest in dance was an interest in fencing, but that, too, was an impossibility, given where I lived.
I was 21 before I had an opportunity to begin fencing (by that time, knowing that dancers started as children, I had given up on that idea). But once I had it, I grabbed it with both hands. I was awkward and unshaped (I can't say out of shape - I had never been in shape in my life), and probably too old to have started. One thing - my left-handedness was considered an asset. I worked long hours. I did drills. I went to summer practices (in spite of being a summer Olympic sport, fencers usually knock off during hot weather). I sweated. My knees, never having had to do more than climb a few sets of stairs on any given day, complained. I ached. But, I got better. Honestly, I sucked at competition, but I had so much fun learning to do something I had always wanted to do, it almost didn't matter.
The came iai, which solved the competition question nicely - there wasn't any. But there were other obstacles, like there are with anything. But I worked on them. Actually, there are always obstacles - time, space, money, other people, death. But I worked hard. Really hard. Spent money going to Japan. Spent time - extra time, by myself, in rented studios all over NYC when I had any to spare.
And unlike my talented student, I did not give up when things did not go exactly as I expected them. One thing as you get older, and it's a good thing - you learn not to expect anything. It's fortunately true, as my old teacher used to say, that it is better to go around an object placed in your path than it is to try to go through it, and that has happened in the past few years. But, as he also said, there are many paths up the mountain. The important thing is to keep climbing.
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