Well, we (mostly my wife) recently completed a 10-day stretch of babysitting our one-year old grandson while his parents attended a convention on the mainland.  Frankly, we’d forgotten about a toddler’s high level of energy and curiosity.

At this age, they pass through so many development stages, so quickly, it’s hard to keep up.  Right now, it’s the listen to Elvis CD/buy helium balloons/go outside/blow bubbles/fly to the Superman theme song/eat MumMums/drink through a straw/drool through many bibs/and so on – stage.  It brings back to me, something that my uncle often said about filial duties and responsibilities – “Why are we here?”  It’s a simple philosophy on the parent-child relationship – parents should always be willing to sacrifice their time and financial resources for their offspring; else, why did they ever have ’em in the first place?

He can’t quite talk yet…he gestures and makes various sounds to get his point across.  I laugh each time he leans forward and points to the outside, pursing his lips together to make his unmistakable vibratory, “BBBBbbbb!!….” sound, his “word” for bubbles.  Recently, he learned how to vigorously shake his head as a way of indicating “No”.  As he does so, he closely watches whoever is carrying him.  He has come to expect the inevitable chuckle and “No” verification that comes from the closest adults.  Thus, he does his “No-No” headshake in a very deliberate fashion, carefully watching for our facial reaction with a broad, toothy smile.  I get the sense that in his own way, he is entertaining his audience – as well as himself.  I have come to the conclusion that among all of the various duties we have as grandparents; indeed, as family, perhaps the most basic one is – we are his witnesses.  I don’t know who has more fun; us watching his antics or his watching our reactions.

In that sense, I sometimes ask myself, as a sensei, “Why are we here?”  What is it that gives your senseis the impetus to leave their homes (perhaps a favorite book, tv show, or hot dinner), drive down to the training place, and spend some of their limited free time with the karate group?  There is no doubt that a part of it is an innate love of the art of karate-do.  One can be feeling tired and rundown in the midst of the daily workplace grind – an hour or two at the dojo, and each sensei leaves feeling invigorated on several levels.  On another level, it’s the joy of sharing one’s knowledge, helping others, and giving back to the art itself.  However, I now believe that one of our most important duties is be witnesses to your efforts and struggles to grow and develop yourself in this way.  This is not some mystical “Mr. Miyagi” thing – it is no different than what a parent does when attending a sporting event to support a family member.  It is what we informally do when we attend a birthday party or wedding or baptism.  It’s what we do when we formally sign legal documents for someone’s loan or application.  It is the chief function of a notary public.

Last week, I watched the Tom Hanks movie, “Cast Away”.  You’ll recall, that the only other “person” to share Hanks lonely four year bout of survival on the tiny Pacific island was Wilson – the volleyball…or was Wilson a soccer ball?  After the Hanks character paints a face onto the ball, Wilson goes on to share as much screen time as any of the other actors in the film.  Wilson doesn’t respond to any of Hanks’ questions or statements during their years on the island, the ball can’t even move without being carried/placed from spot to spot.  Wilson’s whole purpose seems merely to witness Hanks struggles; both on the island and escaping it to return to civilization.  Yet, surely this simple and silent sports object is crucial to Hanks efforts throughout the years, and especially during times of crisis.  Wilson is, in the most basic and important sense, a witness.

In the sometimes strange world of quantum physics is the odd phenomenon of observation.  Remember those experiments that showed light behaving as both a particle and a wave, depending upon the observer?  Therein lies an endless philosophical discussion on how thought, attitude and observation can influence reality.  I suppose that witnessing is the way God designed us.  We often do our very best work and reach our greatest achievements in the presence of witnesses.  Sometimes they’re near, sometimes they watch from afar, sometimes they’re strangers, often they are friends and family…at training, it’s your kohais, sempais and your senseis.  But it’s not really just about performing or trying in front of people.  The most powerful and meaningful oath I can think of, starts with the words, “As God is my witness…”  It brings home the true power of a witness to help one’s commitment and resolve.  Fortunately for each of us, He can always be relied upon as a witness to one’s struggles – and one’s triumphs.