Living with Enthusiasm . . . and class

Date: Weds, 5 May 2005

When I was very young - maybe only 4 or 5 years old - I asked my Mom what sort of job I should have when I grew up.

She said I could do whatever I wanted, that it didn't matter to her if I was a ditch digger, as long as I dug the best ditches I possibly could, and was happy doing it.

Since I teach both Kung Fu and Tai Chi in my school, I sometimes have people try one class of each discipline before they join, to help them decide which they want to focus on at first.  When it's time to pick a program they may say something like this:  "I like the tai chi better, but I need to lose weight so I guess I should do the kung fu since it's a sweatier workout . . . right?"

Wrong.

I always recommend that people go with the program they enjoy the most, not the one they think they "should" do.  They'll work out more, get better at it, have more creative energy, and be more fun to be around.

I haven't needed to use an alarm clock to get up since I became self-employed owning my own martial arts school in 1989 because I enjoy what I do and look forward to each day.

Mom was right.

I flew out to Texas last Sunday on a few hours notice after speaking with her. She was diagnosed with cancer nearly two years ago and I could tell things were getting worse fast, so I got myself on a plane.

Another thing I try to help my students understand is that they don't need to do a "perfect" workout - they need to do the workout that will keep them coming back.  An imperfect workout 4 times a week is better than the world's greatest workout that somehow never gets done.

If you like kung fu or tai chi or karate form and kata, do it.  Don't listen to people who tell you form is useless.  And if you like sparring, then do that. Never mind people who say "without form there is no content."   Whatever that means.  Just do whatever workout means the difference between being active and sitting at home.

When I got to Texas it was late at night and Mom was half asleep.   They'd given her morphine.  I wasn't sure she recognized me, but when I asked her if she knew who I was she said "Of course I do, Rob."  I slept on a cot in the hospital room and Mom had a rough night.

The next morning when she woke up she was so happy to see me.  A change came over her and the nurses couldn't believe the difference compared to the last few days.

By noon Mom was so lucid and alive I got a wheel chair and an oxygen tank and took her outside.

The VA Hospital in Temple, Texas could win architecture awards.  The grounds are beautiful with a small lake and a chapel with gardens.  We found a spot beneath a Live Oak and talked and I got my cell phone out and put Mom on the phone with my Godmother, who is an old friend of hers from Nursing School.  They talked for a long time and laughed.

Mom was a Navy nurse and I grew up hearing stories about travel, and dating Blue Angles, and how much the Corpmen helped her and made her job possible.  To this day I'll extend myself for someone if I find out they were once a Navy Corpman.

That night, Mom said she was scared of death and when I told her she didn't need to be she asked me who told me that.  I thought about it and told her she was right.  If you're scared, then that's how you feel.  But she was also able to talk and laugh as we visited and I told her I was proud of her for that, and for so many things.

They say the candle burns brightest before it goes out.

The spirit and energy Mom showed last Monday may have been because her days were turning to hours, and few at that.  But I also know it was because she was so happy to see me.  Enthusiasm doesn't just make life more interesting. Enthusiasm revives us.

It makes us alive.

If we can live our lives, and practice our martial arts and all things by focusing on what we're truly interested in, we'll get better at what matters and be of more use to ourselves and others.  And when we get to the stressful parts, and the scary parts if we can keep our sense of humor that shows maturity ... and class.

Mom passed on early Saturday morning.  This issue is dedicated to her.

Peace.

Rob LaPointe