Sometimes, going to training week after week, through season’s change, from year to year, even though we faithfully come to train, we can become so comfortable in our regimen that we begin to take the practice, sharing and learning of karate-do as a pretty mundane activity. Sure, other folks might exclaim with some excitement and interest, “Oh, you practice (or teach) karate!?” To which you explain that it’s just a ministry activity you do in your spare time.

Strangely enough, the students of the small classes I teach at Wheeler Air Field don’t look at their karate training from such a mundane perspective. A couple are veteran engineers, one’s a biologist and division chief, another is a fish/wildlife program manager, while one oversees broad-reaching natural resources programs. A fairly diverse group of professionals in their respective fields, ranging in age from their early thirties to mid-fifties… yet united in a fresh and continuing appreciation for the gift of karate-do in their lives. Each works long days immersed in meetings, reviewing technical diagrams/papers, overseeing budgets, contractors, and a myriad of issues. Despite their busy schedules each looks forward to those times (at most, once a week) that they can don their gi’s, stretch out, work up a sweat and learn something new. The longest one has trained is two years… a remarkable achievement in light of their infrequent training schedule, the slower pace of progress, balanced against their normal instinct to delve deeply into everything they do.

Then I look at members in our ministry and see again this amazing, wonderful enjoyment of the art… especially in those who have returned from illness or injury. I see it in eyes and movements of those whose schedules have prevented their attendence for long periods of time. I see it in those who come often and train hard, yet find each session as something new and challenging.

Our busy lives can often be seen as mundane and routine, yet under certain conditions we gain the understanding of how great each day really is. A near-brush with death, seeing a loved one after a long absence, walking with your friend/spouse/child at the beach/park/anywhere… we sometimes realize what a gift life is and how precious every moment can be. The difference between mundane and wondrous lies in our own perspective. It lies within us and is less dependent upon the external, than it is upon the internal… and the Eternal.

I was just remembering how the great Nakayama Masatoshi, Chief Instructor of the JKA for three decades, nearly died in a skiing accident in 1971. He was an expert skier, as well as the Department Head of Physical Education at Takushoku University. He was caught in a terrible avalanche while on the slopes, which so broke his body that the the priest was called for last rites at his hospital bed. Yet, he defied the doctors’ predictions and did not die on that hospital bed. Further, he overcame all the odds and not only walked again, but was to recover such that he traveled, led the JKA and taught for sixteen more years. I was fortunate enough to train with him in 1985 and could see how much he enjoyed what he did. One of the greatest JKA karateka outside of Japan, Sensei Stan Schmidt from South Africa was a great and athletic champion in the 1960’s and 1970’s. He was to suffer a terrible auto accident that caused him to have both of his hips replaced. Today, in his late sixties, he still trains and teaches, albeit not at quite the level he once enjoyed… however, he says that he truly appreciates being able to do karate-do today. Similarly, Asai Tetsuhiko, Chief Instructor of the JKS, who passed away recently from leukemia, taught and trained until the end. These are all extraordinary men who displayed extraordinary dedication and appreciation for the art… more so, in the face of immense personal challenges.

I suppose everything associated with life is truly wonderous and unique… whatever is appears to be mundane is a reflection of our mind and spirit. Maybe instead of “Stop and smell the roses,” we karateka might say, “Move and enjoy the waza (technique).”