On The Pivot Podcast with Host retired Pittsburgh Steelers Safety Ryan Clark, the GOAT (Greatest of All-Time) retired NFL Quarterback Tom Brady said, “I see these young players out there like Patrick (Mahomes) at Quarterback, laughing, running around, and having fun. I used to be like that. What happened to me? I just got way too serious.” Tom’s first love was football, long before he won 7 Super Bowls. He still loves throwing the football and watching it spiral in the air.
Above all, Tom loved being a good Teammate. He believes that’s singularly important when you are part of a team. As a teammate, Tom got to be his authentic self and open up. In the locker room, he said, “You got to be a kid again.” Tom took playing football way too seriously after he won his first 2 Super Bowls. Over his future Hall of Fame career, he said, “Okay, the next phase of life, I’ll have fun.”
When I was 8 years old, I could be drawing my favorite superheroes or playing with my cousins at a family party, I stopped myself from having too much fun. I knew inevitably that I would do something or not do something that would make Dad so angry with me. Whatever fun I had would immediately evaporate. I’d be scared. Often, I cried. That was my no-win scenario childhood. At some point, I stopped having fun as a kid. Really, I just stopped trying to have fun.
46-year-old Tom and 62-year-old me get in our older age that we have as much fun as we can, for as long as we can. We do what we love for as long as we can, too. We want to enjoy life. At least create the possibility of that.
I love Aikido and writing. They give joy and meaning in my life. I have fun doing them. I’m never more self-expressed, more alive than when I’m training and teaching Aikido or writing about loving and forgiving thine own self for the Good Men Project. Why do anything, if it’s not fun? I’m just asking.
I’ve trained in Aikido for over 35 years. I’m Godan (5th degree black belt). Ishibashi Sensei is my Sensei. The late Mizukami Sensei taught both Ishibashi Sensei and me. Sensei taught us Aikido, what it is to be a good man, and to be of service to others. Sensei was Old School. He was samurai. In Japanese, samurai means to serve.
In Aikido, Mizukami Sensei said, “Wait it out. Enter the attack. Take a glancing blow if you have to. You’re not always going to get away scot-free. It’s one time.” Ishibashi Sensei said, “The safest place to be is under the attack, in the danger.” When the bigger, stronger man punches to my face, I wait it out. I enter the attack, enter what I fear. I take a glancing blow if I have to. It’s one time.
Ishibashi Sensei said, “The purpose of Aikido is to release your fear.” Every time, I enter the attack, enter what I fear, I let go my fear inside that I’m not good enough. My fear inside as a little boy scared as hell of Dad. Although my fear inside never completely disappears, I let go more of my fear inside when I enter the attack, enter what I fear. I lighten the f*ck up. I have fun.
In the center of the attack, in the danger, I apply nikkyo (wristlock) to myself and match the attack with yoko-iriminage (strike to side of the head) to the attacker. I apply the Aikido technique to myself, not to the attacker. Aikido Founder O-Sensei Morihei Ueshiba said, “True victory is victory over oneself.” It’s me against me. No one else. I let the attacker pass or end the attack. The attacker takes the fall or gets hit in the face. We both choose. I get in the distance of the attack. Hold my position. I let go my fear inside. Open up. Have fun.
In the First Noble Truth of Buddhism, there will always be suffering in life. The Fourth Noble of Buddhism is the path to end suffering. On the Good Men Project with my editor Lisa Hickey, I write about loving myself for who I am and forgiving myself for who I’m not on my path to end suffering. I have nothing to do with what goes on inside someone else. I have a say in what goes on inside me. I practice loving and forgiving myself over, and over, and over again.
In Aikido training, I tell Ishibashi Sensei, “I have a lot to work on.” He smiles, “We all do.” I work on myself, not on others. That’s all I can do. That’s all that we can do. I just train. It’s not like I have to get somewhere. Yeah, the training is tough. It’s hard. It’s supposed to be. Anything worth doing or becoming is often hard. Anything worth doing is fun, too.
After a tough, hot Sunday morning Aikido practice, I told Sensei, “I had fun.’ We both smiled as we shook hands. Sensei said, “See you on Thursday?” I said, “Yes.” I just train, work on myself, and have fun.
Life is too short to worry. Besides, worrying makes no difference at all. I have as much fun as I can for as long as I can. I do what I love for as long as I can, too. My life is meaningful. I have as much fun as I can. May you all define your meaningful life. Have as much fun as you possibly can for as long as you can. Very few things are more meaningful than having fun. You can be a kid again. Amen.
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