It's been a weird few years of rebuilding my curriculum, and also rebuilding my personal training. With a lot of help from some colleagues, I now have reestablished some of my personal training, and will work to continue to improve it. But as I do that, there are a couple of things I hope I keep in mind.
When I was at my old place, I believed anything I did with regard to my old dojo was overall for the good of the group. I planned seminars, arranged practices (beginner and advanced) and special events. I was very trusting of people who were senior to me, as well as to the students, believing that since my motives were good, no one could misinterpret what I was doing as being anything other than what I felt it was. My husband viewed at least some of my sense of service with concern. He worried that my involvement in the hierarchy was overdone; i.e. that I had become dependent on the place and its structure, to the detriment of what I could do myself. Before everything backfired, we had several discussions on this topic.
Leaving aside issues of domestic dependency (guess who does the dishes at night 99% of the time) and maybe that he was slightly jealous of my involvement, I understood his point - teachers train you, but what you do with the training is what makes you who you are. As an artist, he trained in different media and art genres, as well as history and even some elementary chemistry in order to understand how different materials work (and, importantly, their potential toxicity), but once trained, it was up to him to find out how to communicate, in this case, to the canvas, what his artistic sensibility was.
I used to explain to him that as a classical budoka, I always needed someone above me for guidance. Like ballet dancers, koryu budoka need to constantly assess what they are doing and have corrections made by people who know better. I assured him that I was not in thrall to anyone, either here or in Japan, but merely respected their seniority and expertise, appreciating that they would take time to kick my butt when necessary. The reality, of course, was somewhere in the middle - I had bought in to the hierarchy to the point where I identified very strongly with it. It was a hard lesson to find out that trust can be abused, even after many years (yes, a divorce analogy can be applied here if one insists).
Lately, one of my colleagues has gotten a new job and will be leaving for Japan soon for perhaps several months. My second reaction (the first was being really, really happy for him) was envy that he would be in the Old Country and able to meet with his teachers on some kind of regular basis for the time he is there. It is sort of drug-like - kind of like how I used to feel when walking down the street and encountering a whiff of someone's weed - my body remembers, and reacts even though I haven't smoked in about 1000 years (now the stuff smells really stinky and I don't get the same feeling I used to). But envy is a small emotion, and today I realized that feeling envious of his good fortune was stupid. I have benefited enormously from contact with some of the same teachers, as well as others, but the real point is what I do with what I have learned.
I have realized I can keep those lessons learned, even if I am no longer learning them in the same place; even if my teacher is no longer alive, and practice what I was taught, both improving myself and passing things along to others.
I was able to train last fall in Japan with some superb people. With some luck I will be able to train again there soon. But in the meanwhile, the point is what I am doing with what I learned in the here and now.
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