So I had a new post all done and ready to go; an article on the effects of stress and resulting behaviors in small group dynamics that I’ll probably still post at a later date, but I recently got back from a trip that got me thinking about a few observations that are still running around in my head. The trip I took was a week in Paris and, while there, I whole heartedly and hedonistically indulged myself as a tourist and did as many of the “touristy” things I could. I wanted to turn off, drink wine at midnight on the banks of the Seine River under Notre Dame and feed the die-hard-romanticist-film-noir part of my soul. But of course, life always seems to have other plans and presents lessons and reminders in places you least expect.
The first was, while touring the Louvre; I wandered into the gallery housing the Mona Lisa. She sits alone on a wall cordoned off so the closest you can get is about 15 feet and, in front of the cordon, is a never ending group of people jostling to get up to the front of the cordon where, instead of taking a moment to admire this work of acknowledged genius, they (the vast majority) seemed only to want to snap a photo with their camera or camera phone and move off to the “next thing.” And when I say the crowd was jostling, that might be an understatement since it seemed more akin to a European football crowd in its movement than what you would expect from an art museum and was literally elbowed by a gentleman of about 60 who felt I was standing in his perfect spot for a photo. As I moved off to the side, I began to watch the crowd interact with each other, the portrait, and their environment as a whole. As I did so, the Mona Lisa’s oft guessed at smile took on a new meaning for me and seemed to say; “You dolts! Some of you have traveled hundreds and thousands of miles, crossed oceans and continents, and the best you can do is view me through a camera lens?!?!” That’s when I noticed that Ms. Mona had friends with her. Throughout the rest of the gallery that housed her where about 18 other paintings, all by acknowledged masters and wonderful in their own right and I took my time appreciating them all.
Following the flow of the traffic out of the Mona Lisa gallery, I was again beset by those on their way to the Next Thing. The outer room held no printings but had very ornately decorated walls. I stopped in the middle of the room, looked up, and was greeted by a beautiful mural covering almost the entire ceiling. The sound of shutters and camera phones broke my revere and, looking around, found that several others seeing me look up had followed suit and out came the cameras again.
The next was while touring the garden of the Rodin house and museum. Side Note; the admission fee to the garden section only is one euro and it’s the best and cheapest ticket you will find in Paris. The centerpiece of the garden is Le Penseur or The Thinker. Surrounding the statue are several shaped trees and rose bushes. One of the bushes that I hadn’t noticed was, fortunately, discovered by my companion and my gods am I glad she found that bush! When I entered the garden, the flora was an accompaniment to the sculpture but after smelling that wondrous scent, the contextual relationship flipped making the rose the centerpiece of the experience. If I could bottle the scent of that rose, I would never have to work another day in my life! Filled with notes of Meyer Lemon, honey, and herbs, it was truly a delight to the senses but also sparked a conversation and debate. The question that arose is this; “If that rose had been encountered someplace other than the Rodin Garden in the shadow of The Thinker, would it have smelled as good? Does the context change the perception and, if so, how much? Would that rose have smelled just as good if found, say, in the green space of a busy street; what about the middle of a dung heap?” The answer to these questions is both yes and no. Those of you who know me know that I often say that EVERYTHING we do always comes down to personal perception and the context we give to it. The place in which we start a decision, process, observation, etc., will determine where we end it as well. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it is something to be mindful of or we can miss some important shit in life. Because of personal perception, a person might not even stop to notice a rose outside of a garden or, that person might not be as well disposed to appreciate it if surrounded by passing cars and the noises and distractions of a busy street but if you let these other things distract you and find yourself only able to appreciate such a wonder as a rose while in a garden, what else are you missing?
We all know the type of person I mentioned in the beginning of this missive. Soke has labeled them “kata collectors” and I can’t think of a better term. These are the people who rush through life always going to the “next thing” without taking the time to appreciate and understand what is right in front of them and, because of this, usually miss out on what’s really important. They wander in and out of the dojo’s we train at; looking to “learn” the art of the Ninja and give up when they aren’t immediately initiated into the “inner secrets.” I mean, what exactly do they think they are going to get? Do they think they are going to be taught a five finger exploding heart palm technique or something? If pressed, I doubt even they could give an answer as to what exactly they are looking for. They seem to think that, if they find the right teacher, they will instantly become a master. No matter how good the teacher, each of us rises only to the level of our ability and willingness to learn. Follow me on this for a minute and try to think of it this way; who is/was responsible for Rodin’s works; Rodin himself, his talent or his teacher? The person who taught him to sculpt taught him the techniques, underlying principles, and ways to express what was inside him, but without the innate talent, his works would never have risen to what we recognize as the level of a masterpiece. Likewise, if Rodin himself had not taken either what was inside him seriously or the words of his instructor, his works might well have found themselves given the same appreciation as the other paintings displayed in the Mona Lisa gallery. For the entire process to work, all three parts must be in agreement or synch with each other holding whatever percentage necessary to make a whole.
As said earlier, I believe everything we do comes down to our personal perception and the context we see the situation in. If we look at it from a training standpoint the question then becomes, what are we missing due to our perception of the context? For those of us who continue to train, why do we do it and, more importantly, when and how do we use it? What does our art mean to us in our daily lives? My Shidoshi has said before that Budo can only truly exist and live if it is treated as something that can die. If we take this approach, everything we do can and should become part of our practice. If you only use the art while practicing in a dojo, for social reasons or as a way to blow off steam, you might seriously want to consider taking up Tai Bo instead. I’m not saying that you should put on a costume and become the Fist of Goodness at night running across rooftops, but that the art can and should go beyond physical applications. If we consider our art as a living, breathing thing, then the techniques begin to fall by the wayside and the underlying principles of those techniques come more sharply into focus allowing us to adapt more readily to physical and nonphysical situations and spread to life outside the dojo. I’m not saying that you will instantly have a light shine down upon you and be able to execute every technique shown to you perfectly because gods know I embarrass myself more often in the dojo than I care to admit. The thing about this is, the “technique” of the dojo, and even life for that matter, become secondary if you allow yourself to broaden the context of whatever situation you find yourself in and can more easily adapt with a wider perspective. I’ve talked a little about this in my last post, but thought it worth revisiting. I guess the most important thing to remember and take away for those who have had the fortitude to read this entire post is, always, always, remember to look up.
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