In Actor Ethan Hawke’s amazing TED Talk, Give yourself permission to be creative, he expressed that creativity is vital to our humanity. Ethan said, “It’s the way we heal each other.” He said, “To express yourself, you have to know yourself.” How do you do that? Well, you find what you love. You discover your passion. Ethan said, “You have to be willing to play the fool.”
Shakespeare said, “The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”
Much of my childhood was engulfed in fear. I never knew if what I did or didn’t do made my Dad so very angry. Whether I was having fun playing in the park with my cousins or watching my favorite TV show, I knew that fun would come to a sad abrupt end. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. I waited for Dad to get angry at me. Needless to say, childhood was no picnic. I endured rather than thrived in my childhood days.
Now at 59 years old, having worked to heal my childhood trauma and depression with my therapist Lance, I get that the purpose of life is to have as much fun as I can for as long as I can. Yeah, I get that I choose who I’m going to be in any given moment. That my most authentic expression is making a difference.
Still, having as much fun as I possibly can for as long as I can, makes a difference. To do that, I have to be willing to play the fool. I get that I really don’t know shit. That I am the fool. Perhaps, there’s wisdom in that. Just looking.
When I started Aikido training with the late Mizukami Sensei over 30 years ago, I got that I knew less than shit about Aikido. Whatever I did know, wasn’t very useful, either. I surrendered to: I don’t know. I surrendered to being the fool. I surrendered to humility. Just saying.
When I got that I didn’t know anything, that I was indeed the fool, possibility arose. I started following the mastery path with Mizukami Sensei as my profound guide. I started to discover myself.
So, did Sensei know everything? Hell, no. Yet, he knew more than enough. Sensei saw that I was greater than what I knew myself to be. He granted me the space to invent my greater-than version, to just be me. Sure, I got frustrated practicing iriminage (clothesline to the head) for the punching attack. I listened as best as I could to Sensei. I gave up looking good. I gave up that I needed to prove myself.
Sensei said, “Jon, don’t move too early. Wait it out. Take a glancing blow if you have to. It’s one time.” I did so. I got punched in the face and stomach about a hundred times. I played the fool. I did so over, and over, and over again. I just trained. I took my baby steps. Eventually, I got it. Sensei said, “That’s it.”
I surrendered to: I don’t know. I surrendered to playing the fool. I surrendered to my first love: Aikido. I got my life in doing so.
Aikido wasn’t about being a badass, about kicking ass. I’m small, 5’ 3”. Everyone is bigger and stronger than I am. O-Sensei Morihei Ueshiba said, “True victory is victory over oneself.” It’s only me against me. I surrendered to not knowing a whole lot, to just training, to becoming the best person that I can be. I surrendered to having as much fun as I can for as long as I can.
When I started teaching Aikido class, Mizukami Sensei said, “No one’s going to learn Aikido, if they’re not having fun.” That landed for me. For sure, that wasn’t always the case when Sensei spoke loudly to me when I didn’t follow his instructions in applying nikkyo (wristlock technique) properly. Yet, I kept grinding it out. I put in the work. I had fun doing so. Amen.
Getting good at anything means that I give up looking good. I risk looking absolutely stupid. That I play the fool for what I love. By putting myself out there in the world, that’s how I grow, how I can evolve. That’s how I live.
I’ve opened myself to the possibility of falling madly and deeply in love. In that, I absolutely play the fool. I’m much less skilled at dating than I am at dispatching the 250-pound dude coming to punch me out. Just saying.
On Match dot com, I play the fool. Yet, I play as authentically as I can be. I’m not rich, tall, and handsome. I give this my best shot. I get far more rejections than kind responses. Nothing’s personal. Still, I met some wonderful women. No, lightning hasn’t struck. Not yet.
As I read through my Match dot com profile recommendations, I hear Mizukami Sensei’s voice: “Just train, Jon.” It’s not like I have to get somewhere. It’s not like I have to meet someone, either. I play the fool. I have as much fun as I can, for as long as I can. Again, I’m just saying.
***
The Good Men Project gives people the insights, tools, and skills to survive, prosper and thrive in today’s changing world. A world that is changing faster than most people can keep up with that change. A world where jobs are changing, gender roles are changing, and stereotypes are being upended. A world that is growing more diverse and inclusive. A world where working towards equality will become a core competence. We’ve built a community of millions of people from around the globe who believe in this path forward. Thanks for joining The Good Men Project.
Support us on Patreon and we will support you and your writing! Tools to improve your writing and platform-building skills, a community to get you connected, and access to our editors and publisher. Your support will help us build a better, more inclusive world for all.
***
Photo credit: Shutterstock