Through the years I've seen people come and go in karate, for a variety of reasons. Some of them I expected, some surprised me, some stunned me. Trying to guess at someone else's situation and mindset is of course impossible, but it seems to me that most of them boil down to one of a few simple reasons:
1) Burnout. This one is inevitable in anyone who practices and trains seriously. The body, the mind, the emotions sometimes need a rest, need to shift perspective. However, burnout does not necessarily lead to leaving karate for good, nor does it have to. In my experience, that comes when people have invested too much, for the wrong reasons, and cannot go back. One man I know had his heart set on going to Worlds, and he was good, very good -- it was a strong possibility. He concentrated everything he had on that one goal, and when it didn't happen for him that year, he crashed. Hard. It was years before he entered a dojo again, but he finally did return -- with the condition that he will never compete again. He doesn't want to go through that again, and possibly lose his love for karate forever. It's wonderful to have him back, and wonderful to see that he has found a way to a more healthy and permanent path in karate.
2) Other commitments. Again, these are inevitable in people's busy lives. Very few of us have so little on our plates that we never miss a training. Some commitments can and should come first, for instance, your family. One woman I know is the parent of two toddlers. Right now, she cannot arrange her schedule so that she has reliable child care during training hours, and has resigned herself to time away from the dojo. She will come back when she can, and we can't wait to have her back. Some people, however, never return; as they pursue their other commitments, other pastimes take over as well. I think if people are truly martial artists, they never give up their karate completely though, and if they don't come back after taking a break, then that break was just an excuse to move on.
3) Illness or injury. Again inevitable. Sometimes we can work around illness or injuries, sometimes time is all it takes. Sometimes, sadly, they mean that regular dojo training is impossible. An older woman who trained when I first started, and got her Nidan at the age of 74, finally gave up because her hearing and eyesight got so bad that she simply could not follow the instructor anymore. We did not care, sensei did not care, but she felt bad and did not wish to disrupt class. She still shows up at tournaments sometimes though to cheer us on, and it's always a joy to see her.
4) Personal or political reasons. Usually this boils down to "personality conflicts", and it's a crying shame. I'd love to say that martial arts is immune to political divisions, but that is not true. Dojos are to some extent businesses, and organizations have corporate structures and hierarchies. I'd love to believe that all martial artists were above petty infighting or selfishness, but as I've commented earlier in this blog, that's a pretty unfair thing to expect -- that practicing martial arts make you less than human, and immune to human weaknesses! However, some very fine martial artists have left the dojo, probably never to return to regular trainings, due to exhaustion and frustration from these types of conflicts. Their loss is inestimable, in terms of skill, experience, and instruction. These are the ones that I mourn, and I can think of two off the top of my head, with no reflection, that are a huge loss, in my personal opinion.
There's no real "point" to this post, it's merely observation. We were discussing someone who is gone now, and what a loss we feel it is. Not everyone would agree with us, but the person in question was a gifted martial artist (if a somewhat challenging human being), and we learned so much from them... we feel sorry for those to come who will never get that opportunity.
Upon reflection, I feel that anyone leaving is a loss, both to themselves, and to the dojo and the greater martial arts community (and yes, this includes the people that I don't agree with, and the ones I hated to train with!!). Why? Because each person brings something unique to the experience, and something gets added to the whole. You can always learn something, even if it's a negative experience for you -- perhaps even especially if that is the case.
Recent Comments