Resistance is directly proportional to love. If you're feeling massive Resistance, the good news is, it means there's tremendous love there too. If you didn't love the project that is terrifying you, you wouldn't feel anything. The opposite of love isn't hate; it's indifference. The more Resistance you experience, the more important your unmanifested art/ project/ enterprise is to you--and the more gratification you will feel when you finally do it. – Stephen Pressfield, The War of Art
My core is weak. Most of the exercises I perform revolve around my core as does my karate training. How is my core the weakest part of me when I exercise my core roughly 4-5 times a week? And yes I do try to actively engage my core when exercising. What it comes down to is my spine. I have scoliosis in 2 places; the most noticeable is I actually have hunched shoulders. Now I’m not saying I’m quasimoto, but it is enough to impact my everyday whether its training, breathing, or doing absolutely nothing.
Scoliosis runs on my mother’s side of the family and I acquired it at the ripe ol’ age of 10. I was so active that I never did a body cast or anything drastic, just regular chiropractic visits which didn’t actually help anything. Martial arts however, did help me. This is one of the many reasons for my return, “maybe it can help with my back pain,” I thought. My mother always attributed my intentional attempts to stand up straight to my karate training--this has stuck in the back of my mind for years.
A characteristic of Shorei-Ryu is we stand very erect, very upright in everything we do. This is proving to be quite the challenge. It hurts to pull my shoulders back and it also takes a lot of energy out of me to do so. This is conflicting as it contradicts the conservation of energy theory—having to think about pulling my shoulders back, doing it, and being in pain is an energy suck for me and a great advantage for my opponents. This fatigues me quicker, which impacts my technique whether its kata or kumite. Also when trying to specifically condition my mid section (e.g. situps, planks), I often get a pinching sensation in my lower back that is quite painful. I try to push through, though it is usually accompanied by moans of torture and a squinting affect. So the focus of my training right now is my posture, praying that if I train it enough it will become habit. Hoping that I will once again stand tall without it requiring active thought or pain. When that time comes, I will know my core is once again strong.
The core has also been interpreted as a person’s soul or chi and has even been tied to the heart. This could be argued by philosophers and physiologists indefinitely but to me, when I think of the core, I think of my gut where all my emotions reside. Like I said in the beginning of this post, my core is weak.
My core is weak because I am full of doubt and lacking in confidence. I’ve been experiencing an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach due to resistance over the last few months. There will always be naysayers in anything you do, this I know. I’ve been torn down my entire life, the higher I rise the more often I find people grasping at my ankles to pull me down. It’s something I should be used to but I’ve never been one to have an “I don’t give a f*ck attitude;” I care far too much about what others think, which means others' opinions infiltrate my mind and take hold, planting the seed of resistance. This character flaw began to greatly impact my focus and my training. This compromising of my core, which no doubt is a result from others’ voices in my head, makes me trip over myself and make mistakes, as one does when in a fish bowl. I wish it was only Sensei’s voice in my mind, and then success would be inevitable. Or even better, my own confident voice.
So along with trying to strengthen my mid section, I am also trying to remold my character. I am finding this is my hardest test yet. I’ve redirected my focus the last few weeks to my goals, my healing and my training-- while pushing the voices of others out of my mind. Though we train with others, it is not a team sport, traditionally. There is no one there to pick up the slack or to point the finger at. Failure and success lies entirely within one body, one mind and one soul. The journey of a martial artist is very personal; one often finds oneself immersed in a cloud of solitude while reflecting on one’s training. Whether the focus be technique, aspirations or a question of character, reflection is a huge part of the journey. That is much of why I returned to begin with, to perfect my character to the best of my ability. So I currently face a part of me I wish to improve. My core, where the hunger lies, that is what will help me to ascend to the level I so deeply desire. When that time comes, I will encounter a gratification so pure that it will taste of ectasy.