The Dramatic Essay That You've All Been Expecting

all the feels

We’d have to begin by deeply acknowledging the fact that we do not know. (This is actually the beginning and the end.) Knowing nothing, having no set conclusions, making no assumptions, we would have to give our full attention to reality as it is at this moment. We would need to enter into the undiscovered. That which is known and discovered is of the past by definition. We’re interested in a direct, undiluted experience of the now.
- Japanese Yoga: The Way of Dynamic Meditation

Dying is a paradox. It is something that happens to all humans and yet all of us have or will experience it differently. Sometimes, dying is a process. Other times, dying is sudden. About a year ago, when watching a show called Limitless starring Chris Hemsworth, I witnessed Alua Arthur, a death doula, guide Chris through a meditation that she might do for someone who is dying.

I don’t talk about dying and death in a light way. I am fortunate enough to be living in a life where I can choose to think about a million other things besides my own mortality. I have access to healthcare and live in a relatively safe neighboorhood. More broadly, I don’t live in a place affected by violent geo-political or local strife, or by natural forces that can wreck havoc across humanity.

Yet, in the past two weeks, I’ve chosen to think deeply about my own experiences with death and dying, and in the process, I’ve pondered my views on what it means to live a more full and purposeful life. I’ve been challenged to ask myself why it’s so hard for me to stay in the present moment, to want to withdraw to what I think is comfortable, instead of embracing the unknown. I’ve tried to confront and clumsily answer questions about why acceptance is so elusive to me and why letting go is so hard.

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When it comes to competitions, I wouldn’t say that I’m a “seasoned” competitor, but more of a “lightly salted (slightly salty?)” hobbyist. I started competing pretty early on in jiu jitsu and didn’t experience any success until several attempts later.

I guess you can say that when it comes to competing, my past record would say that I’m average at competing. I’ve come to learn that it doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m “average” in jiu jitsu—there are so many more definitions that one can use to define progress. I’ve also come to learn that trying to measure progress in jiu jitsu is sometimes not the point of practicing martial arts.

Tomorrow, I will be competing in Pans, a major tournament for people who do this sport. For the first time in my life, I have earnestly prepared for a competition, not because I wanted to win but because I wanted to see if I could put in the disciplined work. When I started this process, I had hoped that my physical preparation would help compensate for any mental shortcomings I had in terms of confidence and self-belief. I had heard about people in hard training camps and saying that they knew they would be fine because nothing could be as bad as what they faced in the camp. But this option was not something that had worked for me in the past—specifically, the act of grinding myself down into mat only made me injured and miserable.

What I’ve come to learn (yes, there’s that phrase again) is that the process of preparation is much more subtle and nuanced than I had been led to believe. Specifically, in training for a competition—indeed, just training generally—the purpose is to integrate the body and the mind so that they work harmoniously for you as life unfolds. The purpose of training is not to break yourself apart, but to make yourself whole—to find all the parts of yourself that are already present and to fully acknowledge them, to fully honor them, so that you can be the most complete fighter possible.

This competition feels different. I think it is because I’m a different person. Or maybe I am the same person that I’ve always been, only that I’ve discovered more of myself and have started to mend that rift between the mind and body that I’ve lived with for so long. For this competition, I’ve been increasingly aware of the need to break down the barriers that I’ve built around myself. I’ve felt the discomfort of opening up, both to myself and to jiu jitsu and non-jiu jitsu friends, mentors, and partners alike.

The only thing left now is to let life unfold and for me to step into it, fully and without hesitation. Let’s roll.