When my dad and I eat lunch every week, we spend time catching up on whatever happened over the past seven days since we last saw each other. I will often ask, “Anything new happening Dad?” His normal response is, “Nothing much…” Then he’ll go on to describe whatever little changes occurred over the week; a patient at Dialysis receiving a kidney transplant, a fellow resident recovering from pneumonia, the neighbor’s cat giving him a small scratch on the hand, the last batch of Fuji apples I got him were not as crunchy as he liked, and so on. Multiply that by 52 weeks, and you have a year in which “nothing much new happened.” And at 86 years old, that’s not so bad…a decent quality of life, no emergencies, a few small scratches, the old memory’s still holding up, appetite’s good, etc.

Then, once in a great while, Dad will wax philosophically and think about the years 1977, 1997 and 2006, in particular. Those years stand out in his mind, as these mark major events in his autumn/winter years: in 1977, Mom unexpectedly passed away; in 1997, he suffered his first stroke; in 2006, he moved out of his home of 46 years into a private care home. Mom’s passing prompted a whole slew of changes over the next year: It turned Dad into a widower – he never remarried – and a single parent (my younger sister was in high school), a responsibility that he stepped up to, and it was a major reason I was to leave the Air Force and return with my family to live at the old home for a year. Fast forward to 1997, and Dad had been living on his own for many years; my sister and her family had moved to the island of Hawaii, while my family were 20-year Mililani residents. Dad’s life after retirement at 62, had become a comfortable regimen of golf, yardwork, walking, karaoke, reading, and watching television. He was in his seventies and looked 20 years younger. Then, one early morning as he showed up for a day of golf, he began to experience the symptoms of what would be his first stroke…in that one day, his life changed from being an extremely fit and active man of 74, into a homebound lifestyle, no longer totally independent. Within a year, his daily regimen would consist mostly of watching cable television and reading newspapers. Dad was able to keep up this lifestyle for nearly a decade until, in 2006, a series of medical emergencies would land him in the hospital three times within four months. That, combined with renal failure, led to moving to the care home…and giving away all but the most precious momentos and belongings acquired during the course of a long life.

Dad will sum this all up by saying…”So much can happen in one year.” He is far from perfect, but he has always had a strong will, a keen sense of observation, and a biting sense of humor. Life changes don’t always happen gradually or in steps…often, it happens in huge, lurching moments of acceleration or decceleration, leaving us trying to shift gears or stomp on the brakes. Despite all that’s he’s lost over the years, he keeps an upbeat attitude towards life and is still fun to talk to. He’s a fine example of one of the attributes of a good karateka…the ability to take a punch and keep on coming. (hmmm….I’ll have to write another note one day, about my thoughts on evading/absorbing/taking punches)

It’s not all gloom and doom, however, as these periods of rapid change occur in positive fashion as well. I remember the one year period of 1974-1975 being a huge one for me. In those twelve months, I: graduated from college, received my USAF commission, got married, moved out of my parent’s house, began environmental planning on the mainland, got my shodan, became an assistant instructor, established our own household, and became a father….actually, all but the last item happened within a couple of months (can’t hurry a baby’s time in the womb). I’m sure you’ve all gone through similar compressed periods of great and rapid change. Often, we don’t get to choose these events…we have to respond and ramp up to meet them.

Like life, the pursuit of karate can resemble endless hours/weeks/months/years of repetition, sweat, and effort with seemingly no progress made. Then, one day, we’re pleasantly surprised by a leap of understanding, or a technique that “suddenly” improves. I really do believe that what He is trying to teach us, is one of my favorite principles in life…the one I see on the wall when I check out at the Flamingo Restaurant; “I’ve found out in life that 10% is about what happens to me, 90% is about how I respond.” I think about this saying often, both in good times and in bad times. We have to be ready for those special moments and life-changing events and be ready to “ride out the storm” or “ride that awesome wave”, whichever circumstance comes our way.

Never take even a moment He gives us for granted. There’s a reason, a purpose, a lesson to be learned from every experience. Like Dad always says, “So much can happen in a year”…or a month…or a day…or even in an instant. Pastor Nando has an appropriate phrase for such moments, that goes something like this, “We live in an imperfect world, therefore we shouldn’t just be thermometers…instead, we should strive to be thermostats, and influence those around us in a positive fashion.” We should lead positive lives, and lead others by our example.