Took part in the internal tournament of my fight gym, and came out with a Bronze medal for my weight class. Happy but unsatisfied.

I managed to win my ‘rival’ by points in my first match, a guy I have been unable to beat in sparring since Day 1! So that’s an achievement for me, even if it’s through a strategic gameplan and not superior skills. I still wasn’t going to be able to submit him, so I opted to take him down or sweep him, get my 2 points, and hang on for dear life without getting submitted. Not the most interesting way to win a fight, but I did.

The second match however, was a heartbreaker for me. Coming into this match, my opponent was on the verge of a blue belt, and he was technically way superior than me. The only gap I knew was his half-guard game, as he wasn’t that good on top, and I was excellent at stalling at the bottom. Again, my gameplan was sound – take him down, and hold him on for dear life, but I made two grave human errors! I managed my takedown for 2 points early in the match, but made a fatal error of getting to my knees and was taken down by him instead. That drew us at 2-2. From there, I started to put my half-guard game into play, and looked for the sweep. Unfortunately for me, my half-guard sweeps were not sufficiently refined, and I failed to have any effect, giving him advantage points for near passing of my half-guard. In a desperate attempt to regain advantage points, I went for a kimura only to let him pass completely and gain side control near the end of the match. 2-5 loss. =( I swear I could have won this one were I more careful. My saving grace is that, he won the gold for the division and got promoted to blue on the spot, so I held well against a tough opponent, haha.

After fighting in my weight class, I decided to take on the absolute division. This is where my lack of mental preparation and sparring against tougher opponents led to my failure. My opponent was a bigger guy, and I was a bit nervous. Despite my constant self-reminder not to pull guard and go for takedowns, I instinctively jumped guard when my takedown failed and he got a single leg. 2 points to him immediately. On the way down though, I managed to establish a guillotine hold, but could not finish. In the midst of the adrenaline and the fruitless attempts to finish the choke or sweep, I had totally forgotten that I was behind points and held on in that position till the end, thinking I would win by advantage. Was really disappointed with my performance in this one, as I should have released the guillotine and tried for a collar choke or simply sweep him. It was a match that I could have won and secured at least another Bronze medal were I not so conservative.

Oh well, live and let live. Learn and move on. The next time I compete, I’ll probably be in a different belt category, at the bottom of the food chain again.

Looking back at how long ago I started BJJ, and where I am now, I’m DAMN BLOODY SLOW! Vacillating between no-gi and gi, taking long breaks before resuming, I finally sat myself down this year and forced myself to finish what I started. At long last a 4-stripe white belt in gi, I should get my blue this year. Then it’s a long journey to purple, and to resume my no-gi training. Nowhere near where I wanna be, but hey, at least I’m moving.

The other side of this romantic notion is simply being nice enough to share an umbrella with another stranger. It’s not a very difficult gesture, but in the sunny island of Singapore, or rather, the occasionally pouring wet island of Singapore, there occasions seem far and few between.

I usually do not carry an umbrella, as I’d rather soak than lug it around, such is the nature of sloth I possess. But I’m proud to say on that on the rare occasion that I happened to carry one, I shared it with a soaking schoolboy last month.

Odd that karma should return the favour today.

It was a light drizzle, one that I’m accustomed to taking a walk in. But for the first time in the 20 odd years of my life, someone offered to share an umbrella with me! Incredible,  I know!

Exactly like how I envisioned but never imagined possible, it was at a traffic light. What’s more, it was a cute 16 year old girl from the School of the Arts. Romantic notions aside, I have to take back some of the meaner things I’ve said about the younger generation. Not all are selfish little brats after all. Looks like SOTA should be proud, they got some good civic education going on there!

Alas, we made small talk and parted our ways shortly after. No romantic follow-up whatsoever. In my defence, she is way too young for me. Oh well, better luck next time.

Update: I shared the little anecdote about a student who offered to share the umbrella with me to my Primary 6 tuition class. All of them said that it was suspicious. *face palms* Maybe only a scant few students in the world still know what the meaning of gracious is. Sigh.

One of the things I have most often shared with those who ask me, the greatest thing a man can have for himself is freedom. Freedom to live, freedom from financial constrains, freedom from illness, and of course, freedom from fear.

Honestly, I’m not a very brave man, unlike my father who knows nothing about cowardice. His is a reckless courage, eager to rush headlong into physical danger for the sake of showing me what a man should be. I am however, a lot more cautious. I like to see where I’m going, plan ahead for an infinite number of possibilities, and still bail if I feel one ounce of insecurity.

The past few years have been about removing one of my greatest fears – my fear of another man. That stage of my life has reached an acceptable level in my opinion. I no longer fear the average bully, as I’m confident that my skills should allow me to defend, and take out if needs be, a significantly larger opponent. The benchmark has always been my father (still a head taller and wider than me), and well, I’m content to say I don’t see him as a threat anymore.

Ok, long preamble done.

Today marks the day I embark on another journey to address a different fear. A small fear that I can live with, but will have tremendous impact in raising my self-esteem nonetheless, should I overcome it.

The fear of the dancefloor.

Dancing has always been a royal pain in the ass for me. I love dancing, rocking out, and having a good time. But I suck at my body movements, and I am way too self-conscious about it. The end result is that I get too little practice, and end up taking very conservative and awkward movements whenever I dance in public.

If you ask me, lousy coordination aside, it’s a larger self-image problem that needs to be addressed.

So there I stood at the counter of the dance studio, hesitating, wondering if I made the right decision to try out a lesson. My very first Hip Hop class.

Barely a few minutes in, and I knew my gut instincts were right. I have not a single spark nor talent for dancing, and was atrociously horrible at it! To add to the irony, I was standing in the front row, and nearest to the glass window where all the passerbys could look in. What an eye-cringing show I must have put on!

I couldn’t help but feel thoroughly amused. Despite my valiant efforts to keep up with the class, I was having way too much difficulties remembering steps, looking at the mirror, feeling the beat, trying to look good, and in general just feeling extremely self-conscious and embarassed about the whole thing. The instructor addressed the class with the tone of someone who has seen too many failures and non-talents that he gave up trying eons ago.

In the end, the class ended with me feeling like a complete idiot, with terrible coordination and stiff limbs. Couldn’t help telling myself how bad I sucked. And the experience was so horrible I never want to relive it again.

So I signed up for the class.

Might as well right? Since I hated the feeling, the discomfort and uneasiness, the awkward movements, and the utter lack of talent, might as well put myself through a few more classes to get used to it, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll improve after that. That’s what classes are for anyway. And if I still turn out to be hopeless, well at least I tried, and perhaps I’d be less self-conscious of getting onto the dance floor and flailing like a moron the next time. From experience, you can get used to being embarassed if you do it often enough, hehe.

It remains to be seen how I’ll come out surviving from the next few classes. No way am I gonna be a prodigy, but hey, it’s all about building those blocks of confidence one brick at a time.

Rock on, y’all!

We take along with us nothing but our memories and our spirit – the only true things we can grow in our lives.

While doing some housekeeping, I chanced upon a little note I penned on the impending adulthood of my 21st birthday. Odd that I should come across it with my birthday looming in sight again. Coincidence? Mayhaps. I take it as a sign to remember what I have so long forgotten.

The note is a list of sorts. A list of dues I owe, the people that have shaped me and honoured me in their own ways, and whose favours I owe a lifetime of debt to. A list that I should never forget, but in the sinkholes of the last 1 year, I have let slipped from my mind.

Forgive my disservice, but now I do remember.

And to this list I add a whole new list of names and faces, some of it which may be incomplete. But should you ever be in that list, I will abide by my duties in your hour of need. Even though our paths may have fallen apart, the invisible string of obligation will bind us through time and space, and I will never relinquish it. An obligation that I have imposed on myself, that those who have helped me may not go unrewarded, and those who have hurt me may not go unpunished.

If you but even wonder if you have a place, then you are on the list. If you have the cheek or gall to wonder, than you have already touched my life, be it as friend or enemy.

See you soon, my friends. And enemies, see you on the other side.

That said, on the 3rd and final day of the seminar, we had a little competition among the amateurs, and I managed to come out tops with an impressive score of 7 hits out of 9 throws. While I surprised even myself with the results, I vividly recall each throw.

Before each throw, I would close my eyes, take a deep breathe, and slow all my movements to a crawl. Then I would draw my arm slowly, take a test swing to adjust my aiming, and then make a firm and steady throw. Every move was calculated and precise. No rush and hurry, no impatience. Just pure concentration. For that moment, nothing else existed except the target and my knives.

Funny thing was, I kinda knew I could win the competition if I concentrated on the throws, even though I was uncertain since I always missed so badly during practice. The difference was that I kept thrashing around with quick throws and hard flicks, slight movements, and jerky impatience while practising.

The win was an excellent achievement and great boost to my ego for me. And right now, it is also a timely reminder of the things I need and must do with the same focus and concentration.

Since my departure from the corporate world, I’ve been thrashing around and dabbling in various ventures. My initial plans on ramping up on photography got waylaid by my martial arts career. Like my practise throws, I started out focused, but quickly got impatient and started trying out things I wasn’t ready for.

In a way, martial arts was, and still is a tempting career for me. I enjoy the rush of training, and the simple one-tracked focus and discipline of the art. In the pursuit of excellence, the focus is in honing one’s own body, mind and soul. It’s all internal. Nothing else matters, no politics, no dirty-talking, no egoistical maniacs with something to prove.

Or so I thought.

I was on the way to becoming a certified instructor in 3 different systems that had tremendous synergy with each other. All that went up in smoke due to career politics. I abhor politics, and sadly, even the martial arts world is full of them.

Look at Muay Thai. When I was still in the fringes of the scene sometime back, there were 2 distinct camps, and local competitions would be for only one camp and not the other. Singapore is already so small, how much smaller do you want to cut the territories? Hopefully things have improved now.

I won’t comment on what happened or who’s right or wrong, but all the territorial cutting up focuses on the wrong things. At the end of the day, it should be about the propagation of martial arts, and practioners should attempt to work together to spread their arts and culture. Naive and idealistic, I know. But all of us can have our little dreams, can’t we?

Right now, I’ve left the group I started out with due to idealogical differences. I’m back to where I was a few months ago, staring at yet another cross-road of my life. There are several options, some safe, some uncertain, and right now I feel downright lost.

I’m afraid to try an uncertain path again, for fear that I will lose my way like I did and end up with nothing. I’m afraid to stick with something safe, because I know I will never forgive myself if I never gave myself a chance. So the question is, which is the true mark that I need to focus my energies on, to point my sights and aim my throw?

Unfortunately, I cannot toe the middle line forever, nor can I walk down a path at random to try. The clock is ticking against me, and every day is another opportunity cost.

And it’s with this thought that I need to force myself to close my eyes, take a deep breathe, and figure out what are the important things to me. Can I still live in the moment, or is it time to wrap up my indulgences?

To focus, to take aim, and to hit my mark in life.

Awhile back, I mentioned excitedly my first personal tip from an elderly Japanese lady – a tourist who would visit her daughter in Singapore from time to time. Just two days back, she visited my outlet again. This time, she was almost leaving when I started my shift.

I was a little upset that I didn’t get to serve her, however, I managed to catch her attention and bowed to her. Pleasantly, she remembered me and returned my greeting. To my utter surprise, she started rummaging her handback, and fished out a few dollars for another tip!

This time, I protested as I did not even serve her, but she insisted as she backed her way into me, trying to stuff the tip into my apron pocket while smiling at my manager and pretending all was well.

Unable to do much, I could only receive the tip and thank her profusely (and discreetly) for it. While I do not know her exact reasons, I am grateful for her unnecessary gesture of kindness, and it only served to pain me even more that I could not have provided her with any service beyond a greeting.

The previous tip from her remains unspent, tucked away in a secret corner. And now I add the new tip to it, a reminder that there are still hearts of gold out there, and the kindness that I should some day pay it forward.