3 Things I've Learned as a 3rd Dan Black Belt
A few weeks ago, I shared some reflections on the symbolism of attaining the rank of 3rd Dan as a Taekwondo black belt, which you can read here. Unsurprisingly, I have much more to say as I’ve been pondering the wisdom Taekwondo teaches me. So here are three core spiritual lessons from the dojang, in no particular order:
1: Do not waste energy.
It is so tempting to want to give every kick and punch all you’ve got. And for a long time, I thought that was the goal. I thought this was the measure of true power, to carry a high level of intensity across everything I practiced in the dojang.
As it turns out, that is entirely not the goal. In fact, it is foundationally flawed.
The true taekwondo master knows how to relax the body until power is truly needed. In this way, power flows more naturally, which is better for the body and joints. Most importantly, though, it doesn’t waste energy. It uses energy at the right time, to the right degree.
When I first began sparring, my general approach was to barrage my opponent with kicks and punches, relying on sheer cardio to win. After a decade, and much wisdom from my teachers, I know that the mark of good sparring is not how many kicks, but delivering the right kick, at the right time, in the right place.
Doing forms is the same. If you are taking a belt test, you are going to have to do a dozen or more forms from start to finish. (My 3rd Dan test had 23.) If you hold your muscles at a point of tension the entire time, as Master Lee says, “You cannot make it.”
Once you realize that martial arts is about flow more than power, so much shifts. Your forms become more relaxed and expansive, and they look prettier. Your sparring is more surgical, and more rhythmic. Your kicks and punches look a little more effortless, because in a very real way, they are. You start to realize that the strength behind martial arts is not forced power, but being in healthy relationship with chi, with the flow of life force. When we don’t trust that, when we worry it will run out, we constrict ourselves, hold on too tightly, try too hard. But once we begin to trust that the power of chi is everywhere, is ever-present, we realize that we can call upon it when we need it, and let it flow beyond us otherwise. It is not hustle, it’s dance. It’s artistry.
I continue to be surprised by how little effort it takes to land a good kick or punch if you’ve held your body without tension the whole way up to that point. It’s a continual reminder of this spiritual truth, that less really, truly IS more.
