But often, in the struggle for balance, we forget just how much of what we should be doing. In one of my previous articles, I laid out the structure of a game called Running a Martial Arts School, and denoted the four levels of dedication that one can take up. These levels of dedication correspond to the balance that I’m now talking about. When you’re fully dedicated to what you’re doing, the balance of work and play is easy to find and maintain. You will do what you need to get done and still have time to play around.

But what happens if we are out of balance? What happens if we don’t take care of business before pleasure? What happens if we have too many “extra” things in our lives? This is a common problem because people often forget what it is that they are supposed to be doing, and instead focus their attention on all the extra activities. This loss of focus is what leads people astray and away from their goals and as anyone who’s been lost before knows, it’s not easy to get back on track.

I’ve known many martial arts school owners who instead of teaching a foundation curriculum of basics with which their students can build knowledge from, teach less useful, unnecessary things; perhaps a technique they have invented but which are counterintuitive to the students’ present curriculum. This confuses students and stunts their learning process. Or perhaps they will create a website for their school, but have no basic brochure. In either instance, the teacher is not taking care of basics first.

From another perspective, if I don’t take care of my marital issues to my wife’s satisfaction, then anytime I try to do something extra like buy flowers, etc., then she will see it as trite and patronizing. If I don’t do what I’m supposed to do in a marriage, then everything that would be auxiliary to my marriage becomes even more unnecessary.

For a martial arts student, the most important thing is to make sure that you are focusing on your curriculum. When you are dedicated at your utmost to the program, then you can begin taking on ancillary studies to supplement whatever your core studies are.
But always remember to build a foundation for knowledge first.

It is a little known fact that during a flight from Los Angeles to San Francisco, a plane is off course 98% of the time. But through minor corrections from the pilot, the flight arrives at its destination, on time, and with no detours. As soon as a pilot notices the plane being off-course, a small adjustment is made and by heading once again in the right direction, everyone gets where they’re going because the pilot sticks to the flight plan.

Most people don’t have a flight plan and it gets difficult to know when we’re off course sometimes. But for the most part, through inherent feelings, or our social upbringing, most of us know what we’re supposed to be doing to succeed in our lives, and that’s our flight plan. Everything else is a distraction.

We sometimes throw birthday parties for the younger children, and as part of the party, we bring out the birthday cake and cut it with a samurai sword. Just as a bit of fun, the kids like it, and it’s a nice ending to the birthday ceremony.

At one of these birthdays, a young boy came in with his elder Japanese grandfather, who upon entering the building, sat in the corner and slumped over, watching the birthday activities without much interest.

At the end of the ceremony, I brought out the sword as usual and prepared to cut the cake. But at the sight of the sword, the old man in the corner began to take notice. His eyes were fixed on me, his back straightened up as though his grade school teacher had walked by with a ruler, and he seemed to come alive at the sight of this sword.

I wondered what had made this man so alert and intent all of a sudden as he followed me with his eyes when I crossed the room with the sword toward the birthday cake. When I pressed the sword into the cake, out of the corner of my eye, I could see the old man shrink back down to his old, disinterested self, no doubt disappointed by the meaningless display of the sacred sword.

From the instant that old man shrank down in disappointment, I experienced a personal failure, and when I made the decision not to use a sword in an inappropriate manner, I experienced a personal victory. Without having spoken a single word to the old man, he taught me so much, I have a renewed respect for the sword and its meaning, especially in the way of the samurai. And at the heart of this respect, I believe, is the desire to preserve the way of the past. As the world around us has changed and is still, most of us who practice and teach the martial arts recognize the value of tradition and the importance of keeping it.

As martial arts instructors, teaching our students the traditions of martial arts culture is just as important as the training. Our duty goes beyond merely teaching moves, but includes philosophy as well, and part of that philosophy is respecting the tools we use to empower ourselves, among them the samurai sword. Many Japanese warriors shed their blood on a thousand miles of battlefield to protect what was sacred to them, and the symbol of their dedication is the sword. The Bushido Code itself makes a strong point of samurai keeping their military equipment in working order and high regard and proclaims that Japanese culture is different from others in that even lower class people such as farmers, merchants, and artisans all treasure a rusty short sword. As a symbol, the samurai sword empowers its owner, as a weapon, its deadliness is matched only by beauty. Such an iconic thing deserves respect, and as such, shouldn’t be used to cut mere cakes at the behest of young students.

Now, reflecting on my past usage of the sword, I see it was disgraceful, but having been taught a lesson, I now know that certain things may seem commonplace, but the reason for that is based in a deep tradition, and we should never forgot or violate that.