So I passed my Black Belt test.
Should I be awesome-fied? Hell yes! 5 and a half years of berating and punching and being chastised/slammed to the ground have all come to this. And all I’m going to do is keep on going on.
I really don’t feel any different; nothing – nada, nothing at all. Except for the fact that I’ve never felt more “true to self” than I have ever been in my life. Yes I have come a long way in Aikido, but the real victory for me is the long way that I have become as a person off the mat.
Yes, off the mat. I remember first joining Aikido in college to find out “what the hell this strange martial art is” out of pure curiosity. Took a 2 year hiatus to find work/a career and to join a fraternity my last year at university.
Both didn’t work out.
But I digress. It wasn’t my initial goal to be this far in Aikido – at the time I moved back home, I was in a rut; it wasn’t until some time had past that I realized that Aikido would change my life. So far it has not failed me. The only times that it “failed” me was when I got too cocky was too full of myself.
What I am now setting out to do is to build myself to the man that I am destined to be, not the ones that my parents (especially) want me to be. From here on out I am concentrating on who I am off the mat, because my goals in my life are becoming more important than ever.
My professional, personal, and emotional life are going to occupy the majority of my energies for the foreseeable future. I know this sounds like I’m putting Aikido on the back burner – but the way I see it, I’m just doing what NSS has been hammering in our heads this whole time:
“Aikido is meant to be taken back into your life to make it better.” (paraphrased)
First few things on my list: starting a career actually (and not just a job) and getting a place of my own. Now if you’ll all excuse me, my destiny awaits.
It all just doesn’t matter any more.
Absolutely nothing – not even the test itself. I just don’t give a damn about anything.
Except my knees, I was an uke for three test takers tonight, having big knees I’m guessing are bad for shikko. This will probably prove to be practice for tomorrow.
12 hours to go. Wish me luck.
“I’ve prepared for this, but what the hell is this shit?”
Just realized this today. The weird feeling in your gut that you have when you know that something big is gonna go down is best explained in this photo.
Many of you many not have known him, nor really cared too much about him but this guy passed away earlier today
He is one of the main stars of the Fast and Furious franchise. Not exactly Academy material – the movie franchise’s main claim to fame is fast cars, scantily clad women, and the culture of underground illegal street racing. Hardcore alpha males (and females alike) duking it out with their egos, cash (lots of it), reputations, and lives on the line using modified cars that would put your typical Ferrari to shame.
That being said, despite its cheesy premises – like most testosterone filled people, this franchise provided a sense of guilty pleasure – and a longing for being “your own man”. For me it’s always been the aspect of “not following the rules” and carving out your own destiny with only your brains, brass balls, wits, and good ol’ fashion teamwork (in the latter movies, you see a lot of teamwork).
Which brings me to the thesis of this post. I chose my screen name as “Fast&FuriousDrew” because of the series. The fast cars mainly; I’ve come to accept – and love – the fact that I am a not necessarily a car man, but a “speed and power” man.
If it goes fast, I like it :).
Anyway, my enthusiasm for the series has tapered off since Fast and Furious 5, however losing one of its pillars makes a little hollow inside – these were the guys that really got my inner child racing (figuratively speaking). A big thank you to the team behind and in front of the camera of the Fast and Furious series, you guys make another “racer” out of me.
75 years in the Making
“Men who had ‘warm’ childhood relationships with their mothers took home $87,000 more per year than men whose mothers were uncaring. Men who had poor childhood relationships with their mothers were much more likely to develop dementia when old. “
Well that blows. I suppose I need to find some other way in order to be happy (and financially successful as well it appears) because my relationship with my mother was never good.
But then again, that was my plan all along in life – to forge my own path among the stars and to prove that, even with the cards stacked against you, you can still find a way to succeed and give it to other people.