Today I took my first class in years as a white belt, and I have to say, I have renewed respect for anyone who walks in to the door of a dojo, puts on white pajamas and does this kicking and punching thing. I especially have respect for anyone who "switches styles" and does that.
I do recall in my early weeks of class those 8 years ago thinking "What?! She wants me to coordinate my hand and foot movements, not lose my balance and yell while I'm doing it? Are you kidding? I'm exhausted!"
Tonight had echos of that with my brain heavily engaged as I tried not to let muscle memory take over. "No Karri, don't punch when you turn around; you are supposed to change sides sloooowly; and when he says 'colored belts' he does not mean YOU." Honestly, I can't say I loved it; not because I wanted to be one of the cool kids but because it's been a while since being a general class required so much mental work. It was hard.
Now, I had a reasonable amount of smoke coming out of my brain and I am just revisiting aspects of my style that I have already practiced and that I teach to new students regularly. I can't imagine what is must be like for students that come from another style and we ask them to change darn near everything.
That is today's lesson. Compassion for the beginner and especially for those that are exploring other arts.
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