I’ve trained in Aikido for over 35 years. I learned to work on myself, not on others. That’s all I can do. I can’t make anyone do anything. The late Mizukami said, “Just train.” I don’t have to prove anything. I don’t have to get somewhere. I don’t have to be someone else. I can always be the better person, the greater man. I work on being the greatest version of myself. I put my head down. I put in the work. Practice makes the unnatural, natural. Just train.
In Aikido, I train with others. I work on myself, not them. Maybe, that inspires them to work on themselves, too. They choose. I apply the Aikido technique to myself. They apply the technique to themselves. We train together.
I practice technique with my feeling out, from the strength inside, from my one point, ki. I pass on that feeling to others, to them. They can give me that feeling back. They have to work on that. They have to work on themselves. That’s the purpose of the training.
At the end, I bow to my partner. I bow to say, “Thank you for making me better.”
Maybe, they bow because they got something from our training.
We’re both on the same journey, although taking inherently different paths. Because we’re all different. Still, I’m grateful that they gave me something. Maybe, what I gave them makes a difference, too. That’s my sincere wish.
As we work on own ourselves together that inspires everyone to do their best, to put in the work. We raise each other up along the path. That’s the purpose. We make each other better, better people. We make the world better a place on that path.
My time has passed. I know what I have. I know what I don’t have. I have more years in the rearview mirror than ahead in the windshield. That’s just life. I’m okay with that. I just train. I work on myself, not on others. That’s all I can do.
In the bigger picture, working on myself is paradoxically about others. I train to be the greatest I can be, so that I can give it all away to others. Try and make a difference for others in some way, on some scale.
I train hard, consistently, selflessly so that people can come away with something, something they can use. The older I get, the more it’s not all about me. It’s about others, about the next generation, about them growing into the greatest versions of themselves.
I work with my therapist Lance Miller to heal my childhood trauma and depression. I endured my childhood abuse. My voice inside said, “I’m no good.” I thought that I would never be good enough for anyone, especially me. Regardless of what happened, regardless of the past, that was all on me. I had to fix it. I had to resolve it. No one else could.
In therapy like in Aikido, I enter what I fear, enter the danger, I invite my fear of Dad as a little boy. I open up. I let go my fear inside that I’m not good enough. I forgive Dad for not knowing how to be a father, for being afraid inside too, and for being imperfectly human. I forgive myself for not being strong enough to stand up to Dad and protect Mom. I forgive myself for being imperfectly human, too.
Through years of Aikido and therapy, I’ve learned to love myself for who I am and forgive myself for who I’m not. I write about my journey and loving and forgiving thine own self on the Good Men Project with my editor Lisa Hickey.
I authentically share myself to make a difference for others. Maybe, they see what’s possible for themselves in that. I write to heal myself. Still, I really do this for the person out there, who could have been me, who suffered in silence, who suffered believing, “I’m no good.” I let them to know that they can heal themselves, too. That it’s possible.
They don’t have to look outside themselves for what they need. They can look inside themselves. Look within. They can find that they’re much stronger than they thought. Their voice inside that said, “I’m not good enough.” may not even be their voice at all. That voice was from their past.
I’ve learned that it’s meaningless to blame anyone from the past. The past is the past. It’s done. Lady MacBeth said, “What’s done cannot be undone.” We live in the present. That’s all we have. We work on ourselves, not on others. Just train. That’s the journey. Along that path be good to yourself, be kind to yourself.
In Variety Actors on Actors, Academy Award Nominated Actress and Actor, Cynthia Erivo and Hugh Jackman, discussed purpose.
Cynthia said, “I’m more interested in, how do I make sure that people in the room looking at the stage also come away with something.”
She said, “I’m okay with what I have. So, I’m okay with sharing.”
Hugh smiled, “That was the turning point for me… I know what I have.”
Cynthia asked Hugh when did he know that?
Hugh replied, “Just after I was 50 (years old).”
I’m 64 years old. I know what I have. I got that just after I was 60. It happens, when it happens. I give away all that I have so that maybe someone comes away with something. That makes it all worth it. That’s meaningful. That’s having a meaningful life. I’m so very thankful for that.
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Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash
