MMA Lady

The following is the beginning of a project that I plan to be working on for quite awhile:

Life is short. So short. Fleeting. And one day you wake up and realize that you are thirty-five years old and exactly what that means. At age thirty-five, conceivably, half of my life is gone, and how much of my time was wasted? Have I even really started living? Was I living a life I thought I was supposed to live, based on misconceptions or pleasing others or whatever it may have been?

As I go to pick up my children from their dad's house, I take a route along Trinity Bay. I have to cross a channel that spills into the bay. I don't know how long the channel is or where it begins, but I can tell that it must be a significant distance. What matters is that I get to see the end of its journey. Though the bay itself isn't very big, and neither are its bayous or tributaries, it seems big. From my point of view, the other side isn't visible. There is just this open expance of water upon water, and at last the water running down that channel is free.

The other day, as I drove across the channel and saw it end in the bay, I felt a kind of identity with it. How long had I been going in one direction, with no way to turn? How long had I allowed myself to be pushed along, feeling as though I were on some kind of journey with no meaning and no end in sight? It was a long time, but I will not forget the moment that I saw the end of that long, straight, and often very dark channel. I will not forget the moment that the journey at last spilled me into something open and free. At last, there was the moment that things were clear and limitless and vast.

Please understand that I believe every part of the journey is useful, necessary, and important. An in the midst of darkness will shine moments of light: the birth of my children and precious time with them, for instance. But I am talking about the overall journey - the culmination of good and bad and the realization of where it is taking you. For a very long time, I felt trapped in that current, without the choices or the power to change anything. I felt enslaved, and I heard once that slavery breaks a person's spirit. I understand that now. What I didn't know was that I was strong, and that the key to tapping that strength would be found in such an unlikely place.

I even laugh a little to call it "unlikely," because now it just seems like the most logical place in the world. For those involved in martial arts, "unlikely" would be the furthest word from their minds. But my world had nothing to do with that world. I didn't know it, understand it, or even think about it. It was almost accidental that I found it in the first place.

I have told my coaches many times: Elite MMA did not give me my life back. But Elite MMA gave me the tools I needed to get my life back. It showed me my strength and helped me chip away at my fear. I am nothing but thankful that, for whatever reason, and by whatever force, I was guided to Elite MMA to begin my journey. The jouney started with Brazilian jiu jitsu, and I want to tell you my story, since I have learned that sharing stories is healing for both the speaker and listener. We identify with one another through stories. Our stories connect us, and I would not even have a story to tell if others hadn't woven their stories into mine. Our stories are important.

One thing I have learned, and I hope to bring out as much as possible, is the concept of the journey. We hear it a lot at my gym. Your BJJ journey is yours. Your BJJ will look different than mine. Your pace, your technique, your style, your timeline. Life happens in the midst of this journey, and that's nothing to beat yourself up about. Own your jorney and love yourself through it, because it's very easy to do the opposite. It is easy to want your BJJ to look like someone else's or to get down on yourself when you can't train or you're not improving. But: it's a marathon, not a sprint, and the journey is beautiful, no matter what.

Now I understand and appreciate my journey so much more. My journey into and through BJJ is part of my journey through life. My journey through life, now, is better I think, because of my journey through BJJ. BJJ is so many things to me: it is relationships, both on and off the mat. It is pushing myself beyond my limit. It is allowing others to pour themselves into me, which makes us both better. It is being encouraging and being encouraged. It is emotional, and it is a release. Whatever I have, I can bring it to the mat, where I can let it go. It is positive and constructive. It is allowing myself to be broken and rebuilt.