I am a martial artist. My journey to that end began quite unconventionally. I was a 6 year old disabled child with significant physical limitations, when my pediatrician suggested the martial arts as a way to gain physical balance. Ironically, I never thought, or believed at the time, that I would also achieve a spiritual balance through the same practice.
I hold black belts in Isshin-ryu Karate and Kyusho-Jitsu. I do not say that as a point of status, just as a record of personal history and truth. I have been severely blessed to have been trained (and continue to be trained) by some of the most talented, gifted, powerful and honorable women and men I have ever known; including: Masters Jesse and Jane Gallegos, Master Tom Countryman, and Master George Dillman. But above all the rest, the one person who is my true Master, my Mentor, and my Spiritual Guide is Master Jeff Burhop.
I have known Master Burhop for over 20 years. In that time, he has taught me not only Isshin-ryu Karate, Kyusho-jitsu and the cultivation and control of Ki (life energy) but how to be a better person. In our many conversations ( often in the dead of night at our Dojo's parking lot) he taught me about honor, respect, honesty, compassion and overall goodness; often times indirectly through parable or personal story. These were the richest times of self development that I have ever experienced. A bond was created in those moments that will never break. He is one of the few people that I would, without hesitation, give my life for, and for whom, I would walk into hell. With such a bond in place, the emptiness I feel given our current geographical distance is immeasurable.
I currently live in a state thousands of miles away from my Master and where I started the path of a martial artist. While we still talk on the phone and see each other at least once a year, I know it will never be the same; and that makes me VERY sad. Much of the time I feel directionless, like a ship without a rudder, floating in the ocean. A Ronin who misses his Master. Since I left, (a difficult, gut retching day) I have been trying to not only keep my skills honed, but also to fulfill the last charge my Sensei gave me...to develop my own art.
Master Burhop told me that the overall intention of a style is to be used as a base to create your own art. "You take the stuff that works for you, and leave the rest." This was especially important for me given my disability causes limited movement and range of motion that makes several techniques beyond my reach without modification or just outright impossible. However, my Master has always pushed me to be physically better, to test my own physical and emotional limits as any superb Master would. In our time apart, I can say that I have worked toward, (and believe found some success) in the development of my style. I do however, still have much to learn and have a long way to go.
The martial arts, for me, is a life long pursuit and process that has given me physical strength and piece of mind. There is nothing like the serenity I feel when I am doing Kata, working on my art, or teaching a technique. It is a place and a process that is calming and tranquil, like coming home. It is the place of mind, and "no mind", where time stops and the world seems conquerable. It is where I feel anything is possible, and I am touched by Zen. It is in those moments of practicing, learning and teaching, when I miss my Master the most, and remember how grateful and lucky I am to also call him my friend.
