I spend a lot of time thinking about legacy, about what it is that I might leave behind when I’m gone. I don’t want children and, even if I tried, it’s unlikely I’ll ever be famous.
Not everyone cares about what happens after they’re gone but I find it a romantic notion that something I do will have an impact beyond my life. Perhaps that’s selfish, maybe it’s a little too fanciful and outdated as a notion. I don’t want an empire, though I’m sure I wouldn’t say no to the perks. As much as I admire the achievements of Ghengis Khan, I’m not aiming quite so high. But I would like to know that I’ve made a little difference, that my life mattered and had cause on a scale beyond my own gain in some way.
We all have a tendency to focus on ourselves, our own life and the personal rewards it can bring. It’s only natural, as the saying goes, and a bigger picture can be hard to view. But like many traditional martial artists, I crave and search for something deeper.
The martial arts can make the claim that they will make you fitter, faster, stronger and more powerful. Most advertising for martial arts will lean on this as though the same couldn’t be said for most sports. There’s nothing mystical about that and nor should there be. Getting volumes of people to train is not only important for people making a living from the arts but also for ensuring that amongst those numbers, you end up with enough people who are going to stay the course and eventually give back. There’s a lot more to be gained from training in the martial arts than just fitness and strength, but the longer you stay training; the subtler the gains get.
Those who are right for the arts will stay and continue training until they are no longer able to do so. At some point, if you remain focused on our training and are open to new ideas, you start to gain rewards beyond the physical. Then later, as you blaze a path through the spiritual and mental aspects of training, you begin to recognise that a selfish perspective is limiting.
As an individual in the dojang you can only travel so far. Our skills and abilities in the dojang have an expiry date. Try as we might to hold them at bay, physical limitations of the human condition will eventually take their toll. We are all destined for the grave. If all our training was for our own ego, for our own reward; inevitably, we are left with nothing. Depressing right?
Thankfully, one of the things that sets the martial arts apart from the sporting world is the idea that they are bigger than any one person. As important and integral as self-development is, there is a bigger picture to our training.
For some time now, I have though of myself as a link in the chain that is the tradition of the martial arts. From their foundation and through each generation, the arts adapt and evolve. But only when there are people who see the bigger picture and are willing to stand as the next link in the chain.
Maybe it’s not a pretty analogy, maybe there’s a less mundane way to describe it. After all, who wants to be a chunk of iron in a chain so long that we can barely see the start? Who wants to be part of a chain that so few people care about and that is respected only by those connected to it?
Well, me, for one. Because there’s my opportunity to leave a legacy. It might not be in my name and it might not be dramatic, but it’s real and I can think of no greater honour.
I am, and know this to be true, only a small, insignificant link in that chain at the moment and probably, if I am honest, will remain as such. But through that chain, I am, in a very real and meaningful way, connected to some of the greatest and most venerable people to have ever lived. In this way, I can reach back, and as time passes, I can reach forward too. I can become part of a living, breathing history.
Every one of us has the opportunity to become part of this legacy, to take our place among the masters, but it is no small thing. There is an old adage that holds meaning in this analogy, ‘A chain is only as strong as its weakest link’. Just as a weak link cannot possibly hold the weight of the rest of the chain, a weak link in the martial arts will break with the traditions and values they are connected to.
To survive in this chain and allow it to continue through us, we each have a responsibility to be as strong a link as possible. If we want a legacy, we have to be strong enough to connect the chain. Perhaps this is why there is a much more holistic approach to self-development in the martial arts world.
Dedicated training under the tutelage of an experienced and loving teacher is a good start to any students development. But a student who wishes to live up to their full potential must do more than simply follow a comfortable routine of training. They must do more than blindly walk a path.
No students’ path in the martial ways is the same as that of their teachers. A successful student must eventually balance their training by taking the initiative in their own development in order to find their own way through the shadows.
I have taken much from my training, as anyone travelling a similar path has. I am indeed stronger and fitter because of it. I have found internal strength too; confidence and good grounding, passion and meaning. I owe a great deal to my art, to my teachers and to their teachers. For the investment that has been made in me, I will continue to train with loyalty to my teachers, dedication to my martial art and commitment to becoming the strongest link that I can be. I will pass on the knowledge and responsibility that has been entrusted to me and will contribute, in this way, to work towards a legacy that will outlast me.
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