A few miles from my house there are two Gracie Jiu-Jitsu schools. The Gracie family is perhaps the most famous, Brazilian jiu-jitsu practitioners in the world.
I studied jiu-jitsu for years in college. I returned to the martial art during my law enforcement years, eventually earning a brown belt.
I was training hard after I earned my brown belt, anxious for my next promotion to black belt.
Things were going along fine, until one fateful morning. I had been up all night at work, and decided to go train, rather than get some sleep.
Fueled on two cups of coffee, I arrived at the jiu -jitsu school, changed into my uniform and met with the instructor. After stretching and warming up, he wanted to demonstrate some advanced moves with me for the class.
During one particular throw, I landed on my side. When I stood up, I felt strange. My heart was doing some kind of flip flops. I sat down, and one of the students (a doctor) examined me.
“John, I think you’re experiencing SVT. Let’s call an ambulance and get you fixed up at the hospital,” he said.
“What the heck is SVT?” I asked, nervously.
“Super ventricular tachycardia. But don’t worry, they can fix it,” he said. Typical doctor. So calm and cool.
An ambulance arrived and I was rushed to the hospital. After a special injection that corrects the sinus rhythm, I was back to normal.
I followed up with my primary care doctor. All the tests confirmed that my heart was fine. The SVT was a freak accident that can happen with just the right impact.
A few weeks later I went back to train, but the experience had freaked me out. Cardiac related stuff always made me uncomfortable, because when I was 13 years old, my Dad suffered a heart attack right in front of me.
Dad survived, but you never forget an experience like that. Coupled with the SVT that landed me in the emergency room, I now had a bit of post traumatic stress.
I never returned to jiu-jitsu.
John, you need surgery
Fast forward ten years and a few promotions, and I’m now the Chief of Police. Unfortunately, into my second year as Chief, I began to experience severe sciatica down my left leg.
I worked out and was physically fit, but the sciatica got worse and worse. Physical therapy didn’t help, and an MRI revealed a bulging disc at L5-S1 on my spine.
My doctor called and said, “John, you need surgery. Otherwise, you could end up incontinent, dragging your left leg.” Not the kind of phone call you want to get.
We scheduled the surgery, known as a micro-discectomy. It took only 45 minutes and when I awoke, I was completely out of pain. It was amazing.
Two weeks to recover, and I was back to work. Before long, I was able to return to jogging and even weight lifting, but I had to avoid movements that put undue weight on my back, like heavy squats.
My back may not be as strong as it once was, but the surgery was miraculous. I was able to return to my old life, so long as I took care of my back.
Which brings me back to the Gracie Jiu-Jitsu schools a few miles from my house. I discovered them last year, when my family and I moved from California to Southern Nevada.
One day I drove into the parking lot, got out, and observed the students training inside. Watching them brought back so many memories of my martial arts days.
How I longed to get back into jiu-jitsu. I went online and researched both Gracie Jiu-Jitsu schools. The schools prepared students for competition, but also offered a self-defense track, for folks not interested in competition.
“Maybe I could just train for self-defense, which would be less hardcore on my back?” I thought to myself.
I almost called my spine surgeon back in California, to get his opinion.
But then, quite randomly, I remembered something that Clint Eastwood said.
The best advice I ever got from Clint Eastwood
When I lived in California and worked in law enforcement, my home was not far from the Monterey coast. My wife and I often visited Carmel, to enjoy the art galleries and restaurants.
Clint Eastwood lives in Carmel and owns a wonderful resort called the Mission Ranch Hotel and Restaurant. The restaurant has a beautiful piano bar attached to it.
When I was in police management school, the courses were held at a hotel near Carmel. Some of my fellow police Lieutenants and I would visit the Mission Ranch after class got out, to enjoy a few beers.
One night, my buddies talked the management into letting me perform at the piano (I used to play keyboards and sing in a rock band in college). I sat down and played Billy Joel’s piano man.
Little did I know, Clint Eastwood was in the restaurant that night. I spotted Clint before we left, and decided to introduce myself.
Clint was sipping a glass of wine with two friends and I said, “Excuse me, Clint, but I wanted to congratulate you on the success of ‘Million Dollar Baby’ (a movie Clint made, at the time, that won several awards). It was a powerful film.”
We shook hands and Clint thanked me. I told him that my colleagues and I were police lieutenants in management school, and enjoying a few beers after class. Clint smiled and said, “That’s great, come back anytime.”
What my colleagues didn’t know was that I was a Clint Eastwood fan, stretching back to my teen years. What a thrill to finally meet Clint Eastwod (I subsequently chatted with him again on another trip to Mission Ranch).
I used to watch all of Eastwood’s movies, particularly the Dirty Harry series. They were entertaining because in each one, Eastwood uttered a memorable line.
Comments like, “Go ahead, make my day,” and “Do you feel lucky? Well, do you, punk?”
However, there was one Dirty Harry line that always stayed with me. Probably because it was more philosophical. In fact, it was the best advice I ever got from Clint Eastwood. It’s from the movie “Magnum Force,” and here’s what he said:
A man’s got to know his limitations.
Here’s Clint delivering that memorable line in the movie:
Know your limitations
Do you know your limitations? Truly? It’s a damn good question to ask yourself, because failing to do so can lead to a lot of grief and regret.
This is a tough one to discuss, because it flies in the face of advice like “follow your dreams” and “pursue your passion.”
There’s nothing wrong with chasing a dream in your heart, even when everyone tells you you’re crazy. So long as you know there’s some serious ability to support that dream.
Heck, there were people who told Tim McGraw that he couldn’t sing very well. Yet he persisted, found his voice and style, and look at him now.
But…there are also a ton of people out there, deluding themselves into pursuing unrealistic dreams. They lack the talent, ability or physicality to succeed at the thing they dream of.
Yes, there are always exceptions. People who succeed despite all the odds. We celebrate them. Maybe they’re part of the reason we think we’ll succeed, too.
But in the end, reality often knocks on our door, to deliver the bitter truth. Do we really want to deceive ourselves into pursuing something where we don’t stand out? Who wants to chase shadows?
We see this happen on TV programs like American idol. So many subpar singers, convinced they have tremendous talent.
One of the former judges on American idol, Simon Cowell, is famous for his blunt honesty (often rudeness) with contestants. Cowell often says what everyone else is thinking.
Perhaps Simon Cowell could be kinder, but he’s also brave enough to tell the truth. People who tell us the truth, and not empty niceties, are doing us a favor. They can spare us a lot of pain.
You’ll begin to stand out
Most folks are generally nice, and don’t want to burst your bubble. Your family and friends will shower you with praise. They won’t tell you the truth. It’s probably why so many people keep pursuing stuff that they’re not very good at.
All of this brings me back to jiu-jitsu. I was pretty good at it, but I wasn’t great. I trained in it not to become an ultimate fighter, but to hone my self-defense skills and earn a blackbelt. I guess some of it was my ego, too.
Unfortunately, the SVT incident derailed my jiu-jitsu. Then, years later, back surgery only added to the unlikelihood that I’d practice jiu-jitsu again.
I grew to accept that there were things I was far better at. Other abilities, beyond the martial arts, where I could excel and stand out. Namely, my artwork and writing.
Clint Eastwood’s advice was sound. A man’s got to know his limitations. The phrase may have been said in the masculine, but it applies to women, too.
Being honest about our strengths and weaknesses is better than lying to ourselves. When we accurately identify our limitations, we are better able to amplify our strengths and talents.
This doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy hobbies and sports where we lack talent. Lord knows, there are plenty of weekend golfers and Sunday painters who love what they do, knowing they’ll never be great. Fun is fun, despite the outcome.
But, if you wan’t to excel and stand out from the crowd, then know what your limitations are. Know the things you’re just no good at. The stuff that you’re unlikely to improve, even with training and practice.
Walk away from that stuff, and focus on your talents and true abilities. Hone them. Invest in them. In time, you’ll begin to stand out, and discover the kind of personal fulfillment you longed for in those other things you weren’t very good at.
Know your limitations, so you can excel at the stuff you were meant to do.
One more thing
I’m John P. Weiss, fine artist and writer. Get on my free email list here to receive the latest artwork and writing.
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This post was previously published on Personal Growth and is republished here with permission from the author.
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Photo credit: John P. Weiss