Massive Change

As you're probably aware, if you've read some of my previous posts, much of my later teenage years were spent in the pub. My life was often directed by circumstance, as well as some poor choices on my behalf and I often found comfort and solace in drink.

I now recognise that if I hadn't discovered the martial arts and the positive influence that it brings, who knows where I might have ended up. Today I'm more than aware of the hard-hitting facts of what over excessive alcohol consumption can do. 

Personally, I was absolutely devastated when one of my very best friends whom I initially started my under-age drinking with in our local pub, actually died of alcohol poisoning at a relatively young age. Although I'm still deeply saddened by his sudden death, I am also acutely aware that it could have easily have happened to me.

I believe there are times during most people's lives when specific change has to occur.  Usually it comes about when an certain individual goes through considerable amounts of pain or displeasure. Transformation often happens when they can no longer tolerate the physical or emotional discomfort any longer and there's no other alternative but to alter their ways.

In October 1980, I had most definitely reached that point. I was literally 'sick' and 'tired' of the same old drinking habits, combined with all the fun and games, which that kind of environment brings. My health was beginning to suffer badly and I was grossly overweight. I'd also experienced some brief skirmishes with the law, albeit mainly for minor offences.

Like I said, things were not looking good. Although I'd started practising Kuk Sool and was making considerable progress, I just couldn't make the complete break-through that I desired, I therefore had to make the conscious decision to change. I'd had enough of the same old regime and just couldn't face another night being 'wasted' in my local pub drinking with my mates.

One Friday evening, I decided to step out of my comfort zone and venture out on my own, away from my usual routine. I changed my image by getting rid of my scruffy old jeans and black leather jacket and alternatively putting on some smart attire. I have to say that I always felt comfortable wearing those tatty old clothes, they'd become part of who I was........ basically a person with no hope or ambition.

To me it really felt like I was shedding an outer skin, in fact it was much like having a  complete metamorphous. Through this process I'd developed a new sense of independence and ventured out into a different part of the town. I visited places that I'd never normally go, I met people that I'd never normally meet, I felt totally liberated and free and there was a different energy about me altogether.

I came to realise that if I wanted to create huge change in my life, then I had to take some massive action, which is exactly what I did on that particular evening. Unknowingly to me at the time, that night would turn out to be one of the most significant nights in my entire my life.

I'll look forward in telling you all about in my next post.

Special Anniversary

Thirty years ago at 3pm on Saturday 21st July 1984 - my wife Alison and I were married in a small church in our hometown of Halesworth, Suffolk, England.

Our marriage has not just been an ordinary union of man and woman; for us there has always been a third party involved. In case you don't know or you haven't guessed yet, that third party has been our highly cherished Korean Martial Art of Kuk Sool Won. 

During our thirty years together, Alison and I have devoted our lives to not only raising our two wonderful children, Rachel and Jason, but we've also dedicated ourselves to constantly practising, teaching and performing Kuk Sool. In return our martial art has offered our family not only a very respectable way of earning a living, but so many other exceptional opportunities as well.

Together as a family we have been fortunate enough to travel the World practising and teaching Kuk Sool. We have not only had the pleasure in (twice) visiting South Korea, the birthplace of our martial art, but many other countries including countless excursions to the US.

It has been during these trips that we have met some really fabulous people. Many of them have not just become acquaintances but people we regard as very special friends. They have not only offered us their homes and their hospitality but they have also helped to enrich our own lives at the very same time.

A special mention must also go to our Grandmaster In Hyuk Suh, otherwise known as Kuk Sa Nim, the founder and president of The World Kuk Sool Won Association. On numerous occasions our family have been lucky enough to have been invited to stay with Kuk Sa Nim at his private residence in the USA. We have always considered ourselves extremely privileged and have never ever taken these invitations for granted.

On another note closer to home; I would especially like to express my sincere  appreciation to Alison's Mum & Dad; they have unconditionally provided us with a wonderful support mechanism over the years, as did my own parents when they were younger.

At this point I must not also forget to mention the great team of Instructor's that have been with us for over twenty-years. Many still continue to help us out on a regular basis and we are extremely blessed to have such good people constantly surrounding us.

Finally, I would personally like to thank my wife Alison, for putting up with me for the past thirty years. Reflecting back I know that I must have given her many stressful moments. I have to say she is quite a special person, why, because she's still here standing by my side. Alison has always unconditionally supported me in everything I've done, including many of my crazy ideas that have come to pass.

I have to say, in my eyes - She's simply the best!

No Mind!

My newfound confidence as well as my passion for Kuk Sool was slowly gaining momentum. I was still however having problems in other areas of my life. For instance my girlfriend at the time was becoming more and more resentful of the attention that I was giving toward my training.

One evening, just before I was about to set off for my weekly session, my girlfriend confronted me and insisted that I should stay at home with her.  I was really irritated that I would miss my lesson and the discussion soon erupted into a full-scale argument, resulting in some very choice words being said.

Her way in preventing me from attending my class was to lean over my motorbike, snatch the keys from the ignition and then hurl them over a hedge into a nearby pond. I was absolutely furious;  for her own safety she ran off very quickly in the opposite direction. She’d made her point very clear - there was no way was I going to make class on that particular night.

On that occasion my girlfriend had obviously made her point, however there were many other major disagreements that soon followed. We eventually came to the conclusion that our relationship was never going to work. Unfortunately my passion for the martial arts far outweighed my feelings for her and we inevitably parted.

My martial art training was slowly but surely becoming more important to me, nonetheless without a steadying influence in my life I was still spending far too much time in the pub with my mates. I was slowly becoming aware that physical training and excessive drinking just didn't mix; it was like advancing two steps forward and one step back.

My closest friends didn't really care too much about martial arts; all they wanted to do was just hangout and drink. On one particular Sunday we had gathered in the pub and had been drinking considerably for most of the lunchtime period. By late afternoon we were all very much under the influence.

Last drinking orders were announced and we subsequently fell-out of the pub and searched to for a suitable place to chill out. We'd purchased some additional beers while exiting and found an isolated piece of common land to sit and drink. When the majority of the bottles became empty, the fresh air and alcohol began to produce a concoction of agitation and friendly aggression.  

My friends were evidently aware about my martial art training but had never really seen me in action. Whether it was the drink or my new found confidence, I had no fear about squaring up to all three of them. By this time they’d all decided to join forces to try and playfully test me out. For a split second I stood motionless in a typical martial art fighting position; the circumstances actually reminded me of a classic fight-scene out of a Bruce Lee movie; the baddies pausing momentarily before all hell would let loose.

Despite myself being moderately drunk, I was mentally ready for action. As my mates approached closer and closer, it seemed like everything was happening in slow motion. I remained poised and unperturbed and witnessed a weird sense of calmness and emptiness inside, which I can only describe as some kind of a void.

The first of my mates lunged forward at me without any warning at all. His movement was clumsy and unbalanced and he clearly projected his intentions, which I was easily able to detect. I immediately stepped back out of his way, allowing him to completely lose balance and fall down on his knees. He quickly recovered and returned to his feet, again he charged. I relaxed and applied exactly the same response, which resulted in him once again falling to the ground; only this time he remained there.

My other two friends moved in and I scanned each of them out the corner of my eyes. Again I maintained composure and eagerly awaited their intended attack. It wasn’t long before the next  pal came charging forward. As he approached, again without thinking, I dealt with his  assault with comparative ease. I applied another circular movement, but this time I combined it with straight arm-bar technique, which I'd frequently practised in class. Once again I brought him swiftly down - bitting the dust.

As I retreated a few steps back, I could see both of my chums lying face down on the grass,  reeling around in mild discomfort. The third pal after witnessing my actions was reluctant to follow through. He’d obviously thought twice and casually edged away from the scene like a cowering dog, with his tail between his legs.

During this encounter I realised that my power had amplified considerably, but I wasn’t exactly sure where this force was coming from. Was this just my own adrenalin kicking-in or was it this mystifying energy that was often mentioned in our training, referred to as  Ki / Chi? Whatever it was I was grateful for having it with me.

I was absolutely stunned and surprised concerning my own ability. I thought to myself, what had I done? How was I able to accomplish such a feat? I’d only been practicing martial arts for approximately eight months; surely I wasn’t that proficient was I?

My three friends despite being downtrodden at what had taken place, soon made up their differences with me. The excessive amount of alcohol simply anaesthetized any pain, discomfort or ill feeling and after finishing any leftover beer we all decided to call it a day and go home.

Upon reflection, secretly inside I was absolutely thrilled that my martial art training had actually begun to pay off. This particular situation reminded me of why I started practising in the first place. I had effectively defended myself, albeit in a relatively non-hostile situation.

The real point of this story and what I later discovered many years later, was a well-known Zen principle called Musin – “the state of no mindedness.” It has been said that when a martial artist’s mind is free from thought, anger, fear and ego, they’re ready to do combat. 

There's a great scene in the movie, The Last Samurai, where Tom Cruise, who's playing the main character is confronted by a gang of thugs brandishing weapons. He specifically uses 'Musin' to successfully defeat his opponents. It's certainly worth watching just for that one scene alone.

I truly understand that the principle of Musin may take many, many years of continuos study and practice to accomplish. Strangely enough though, I actually believe on that particular Sunday afternoon, when play-fighting with my mates in my drunken state, I momentarily slipped into one of the most important concepts of martial art training –  “the state of no mind.” 

Turning Point

Overweight, sluggish and tired, that was the best way to describe myself during my first six months of martial art training.

Carrying all that extra weight on my body, due to excessive alcohol consumption, poor diet and lack of any physical activity often made it difficult for me to keep up with the pace of the class. I was often made to feel completely inadequate by some of my fellow classmates who seemed so much more proficient than me.

After only a few of months of training, I met up with an ex-school friend, who wasn’t a martial art practitioner, but a weightlifter. He told me that he had witnessed my performance during one of my Kuk Sool practice sessions at a local sports complex. I wasn't aware of his attendance at the time and he must have observed me from a distance. He went on to say…. "you look like a fat old toad hopping around on the mats."

Those few words hit me harder than if he'd physically punched me in the face. Although this statement deeply hurt me inside, the sad thing was it was true. If nothing else his bluntness made me realise that if I wanted to see any major improvement in my physical ability, I had to make some dramatic lifestyle changes.

I knew that my overall skill and capability as a martial artist was considerably lacking, let's just say I wasn't your 'natural-born' practitioner. To reiterate this I remember my Instructor once asked me to perform individually in front of the whole class. I was instructed to demonstrate a basic level form (a set of pre-arranged moves) called Cho-Guhp Hyung.

Despite my resistance to perform this task, my teacher insisted that I should still do it regardless. I struggled through the routine as best I could and somehow managed to get to the end without any major mistakes. Because of nerves, as well as my general lack of talent, my technique must have looked very stiff and rigid, unlike how Kuk Sool forms should be performed; relaxed, fluid and precise.

At the end of my performance the Instructor came over, put his hand on my shoulder and said the following words, words, which I’ll never forget.  He said, "Martin’s a lovely lad… but his form  is CRAP... he actually looks like a robot.” 

Can you imagine how I felt? I was absolutely guttered and really wanted to shrivel-up and hide in a dark corner.

For some strange reason I didn’t quit, although I might have had every reason to do so. Somewhere in the depths of my subconscious mind I was still convinced that martial art training was definitely for me. I  did however  frequently ask myself the following two questions; 1/ What the hell am I doing this for?  2/ Why all this discomfort?

After about six months of practising something very strange and significant happened. It was announced by our Instructor that he would be holding a written quiz / competition for all of the students; the first-place prize - a book relevant to the martial arts. Questions would include specific aspects about Kuk Sool, both study and practice, including history and philosophy.

On the evening of the questionnaire, test sheets were handed out to all students. While completing the questions, I actually remember thinking to myself, how easy it felt. Before I knew it I’d finished the sheet and handed in my question paper before everyone else and then returned to normal practice.

We had to wait until the following week to find out the results. I had no expectations about achieving anything outstanding; like most things in my life at that time I just went through the motions hoping to achieve the best that I could. 

At the start of the next class, the Instructor stood motionless. His steely-eyed gaze scanned over his flock of students. After a brief pause he quietly announced the name of winner. To the total astonishment of everyone in the room, including myself, he called out my name. I had to double-take, not believing what I'd just heard. 

After realising that I’d actually won the competition, I felt a little embarrassed and blushed like a single red rose coming into bloom. I doubted myself, thinking that it was all just a big mistake or maybe a shear fluke. I later discovered that it wasn't, as my Instructor informed me after the class that I had won by a considerable margin. 

A few days later after my achievement had finally sunk in I remember feeling absolutely elated; this surprising result did wonders for my wavering self-esteem. After everything that I'd previously been through, the bullying and the anxiety attacks etc, I can categorically say that it was not only a major turning point in my martial art training, but also in my life as well.

The next month, another competition. After again finishing this particular quiz with relative ease, I handed in my paper and again awaited the results the following week. To my utter surprise my name was once again called out by the Instructor. It was another first place result. My fellow classmates were flabbergasted that I had once again stolen the show.

In the following months, my confidence soared. I went on to collect two more consecutive first place prizes, making it a total of four altogether. I just seemed to have this knack for retaining knowledge and information about Kuk Sool.  I'd always been quite attentive in class to what our Instructor was saying. If I lacked physical ability, I certainly didn't lack passion for my subject, which obviously contributed to my success in the quizzes. 

I suppose deep down, I had a point to prove; not just to my Instructor for making me feel small in front of the class, not only to some of my fellow classmates, who continuously teased me, but most importantly to myself. I wanted to prove that I was actually capable of achieving something worthwhile.