Tag Archives: inspirational

Safe space

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Safe space.

I came home from work last night to see my husband and my daughter sprawled on the living room floor doing math together.   My day had been exhausting and I was no less so after seeing them.   The lovely part of it was knowing how safe my daughter was as I excused myself and went into the bedroom to take a short nap.

Having missed out on a lot of that sort of intimacy in my own childhood, it got me to thinking that the boxing gym can offer that same sort of comfort.  My meaning is not necessarily tied into the idea of “Father” / “Daughter,” but “Trainer” and “Trainee.”

As a “student” of boxing one is seeking out guidance and learning from others. That learning encompasses all the usual pathways of acquiring knowledge; however, it occurs as a close physical experience and it is that closeness that can garner trust and comfort.   To sit in a boxing gym is to observe a myriad of small moments of loving intimacy. A sort of safe space for working through the actual problems of how to box; but more so the intangibles of relationship that dog many of us as we go about the everyday work of life.

Of marathons and dreams

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Of marathons and dreams.

Yesterday was the annual New York City Marathon.  Elite runners aside, the NYC Marathon is made up of the tens of thousands of little stories about endurance and heart that see runners  pursuing their dreams of completing the 26-mile course through the streets of the five boroughs.

It’s a day when runners are cheered on by the crowds of New Yorkers lining the route; clapping and pulling for the ones that seem tired or lagging, and reading all the special dreams on people’s T-shirts.  We recognize ourselves in those dreams; of work we pursue with dogged determination and grit, or friends we know and love who endure hardship.

We are each marathoners in one way or another in how we ply our boards day after day to accomplish goals large and small.  For the boxer, it’s not so much the fight as the pursuit of perfection in each jab thrown in the daily grind of the gym.

To my mind, yesterday was a celebration for all us who push to accomplish something, so congratulations to all of us for getting the job done.

 

 

No time

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No time …

for anything today except finishing a paper!  For anyone needing inspiration here’s some fight footage of Alicia “Slick” Ashley:

The power of the vote

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The power of the vote

Yep, it’s that time of year again in the United States:  Election Day.

We mark the date when citizens have the opportunity to exercise their franchise and in so doing take a moment to reflect on the folks who fought and in some cases died to make that power available to all of us.

This year marks three important anniversaries:

– The enactment of the 15th Amendment to the Constitution granting the right to vote all (male) citizens of the United States 140 years ago on March 30, 1870;

– The enactment of the 19th Amendment to the Constitution providing women with the right to vote 90 years ago on August 26, 1920; and

– The Voting Rights Act of 1965 codifying the 15th Amendment and signed into law by President Lyndon Johnson 45 years ago on August 6, 1965.

To honor all those who fought for the franchise, why not take the time to get down to the polls today and vote.

I know that some of us feel that our voices aren’t “heard,” but without the vote, we have no chance to balk about what happens next, and believe me, the “crazies” in the world have sure figured it out which is why they’ll be heading to the polls in droves.

So instead of a “Tea Party,” why not head to the polls for a “Constitution Party” — and “pity the fool” who loses sight of the prize: a better tomorrow for our children and our children’s children.

For those who are interested, here’s the text of the 15th Amendment granting Rights of Citizens to Vote and the 19th Amendment granting Women’s Suffrage Rights.

Amendment XV – Rights of Citizens to Vote

Section 1.  The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the Unites States or by any state on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.

Section 2.  The Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

Amendment XIX – Women’s Suffrage Rights

The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex.

Congress shall have the power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

Of circles and squares

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Of circles and squares

At the end of Frederico Fellini’s seminal film, 8 1/2 , all the varying characters and important figures in Guido’s life (the protagonist played by Marcello Mastroianni) gather on the preposterous set of his latest film project.   In the finale of the scene, everyone walks along a concrete rise as Guido urges them on in the guise of a Master of Ceremonies at a Circus.  The shape of the rise, which is circular, provides the context for the resolution of Guido’s many demons:  his questions about himself as an artist, his mistresses and wife, his early sexual escapades, the death of his parents and finally the meaning of life.

The resolution which is joyous and raucous with all past sins forgiven puts me in mind of how much “stuff” we all carry around inside our heads.  Those of us who bring ourselves inside the boxing ring often are accompanied by our own load of “demons.”  The tease of the ring and the discipline of the training are a boxer’s way of reconciling those disparate elements to find the clarity necessary to fight.

To my mind, the boxing ring is a space set a part from everything else.  During a fight, even sparring at the gym, the rules of the space engender a respect for what happens there.  For the participants, the space is defined by the “combat” set to three-minute intervals and it is only in the one minute “interregnum” between rounds that the fighter interacts with the folks in his or her corner.   As every boxer will tell you, however, boxing is really about one’s ability to keep the demons at bay long enough to truly be “present” in the fight. If not, it’s like boxing with only one hand.  All that junk gets inside to cloud the mental picture of clear thinking necessary to truly box.

A boxing event will have all the elements of a circus.  Crazed hawkers, a boisterous and celebratory crowd addicted to the potential for danger, and “acts” themselves: the boxers who are one part entertainers, one part artists and one part gladiators.  Each has a meaning to the crowd, but more importantly, each has meaning to the boxer plying his or her craft.  The boxing event is a fighter’s way of orchestrating the fight so that the job is done and done well, with all senses in tact, and as with Guido, the chance for a resolution with all demons aligned and playing nicely together.  Would that it were that easy.

No time like now

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No time like now

My emotions are on a hair-trigger these days – sure symptoms of an erratic gym life and I am determined to get in some time today.  When I’m off kilter like that it’s a fine balance between doing too much and killing the muscles, and doing too little which will mean I won’t satisfy the gym itch and more grumpiness on my part.

My plan for the day is to run some, stretch, shadow box, and then do a few rounds each of the heavy bag, double-ended bag, and speed bag, with a fine finish of some abs.  Hmmm.  Nice plan.

As for its execution, there is no time like now.

 

Post Script:  Gleason’s was great!  Not quite to plan, but good enough.

The power of art

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The power of art

My daughter started studying her martial art a few weeks before her 6th birthday.  As a young one on the mat she was an absolute mighty-mite executing perfect forward and backwards rolls that were the envy of the Dojo.  Now entering her 6th year as she turns 11, she has become a mature Aikidoist with a love and appreciation for the art and physical prowess of the sport — and for the confidence, mental discipline and sense of accomplishment it has given her.

As a discipline for young women, Aikido provides a clever alternative for girls to learn an art where size and weight are less an issue that one’s ability to execute well-timed defensive moves that takes advantage of an opponent’s forward momentum to land them on the floor in awkward positions (and the chance to run away from trouble once they’re down on the ground!).  Aikido also offers training in weapons to include the “Jo” (long-stick) and the “Bokken” (modeled after a Japanese sword).  With such moves Aikidoists become skilled in the defensive possibilities of such weapons and of the adaptive possibilities of broom handles and mega-umbrellas.

Whether it’s boxing, aikido, karate, Tai-Chi or any of the other martial arts, a brief course of study for a young women can offer a taste of the possibilities for personal defense and their own physical power.  I know that in my daughter’s case, it has given her a confidence in her physical capabilities that has translated itself into the schoolyard where she can hold her own with the best of them physically and mentally.  That’s not to say that she’s ever been in a physical fight, but the mental toughness of her martial art has given her the confidence to walk away from confrontations and the sense of self necessary to keep the mental taunts of the bullies out of her head which can be just as devastating if not more so.

I’ve also watched as other girls and boys for that matter in her Aikido classes and at places like Gleason’s Gym have transformed into clear thinking young people who are cognoscente of their abilities and mindful of the responsibilities of the unique skills they’ve garnered through the disciplined study of a martial art.  Sure, it’s not for everyone, but offering the opportunity to young girls in particular means raising a generation of women who will grow-up understanding the possibilities of their own physical prowess.

Fighting it

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Fighting It

A full-length documentary film, “Fighting It” is a personal look at the lives of five women fighters.  The film is in the final throes of post-production with a release date set for next year.  The film’s perspective is to portray the passion, work ethic and accompanying emotional highs and lows of women who box, their compelling stories and the conflicts they face as they pursue their dreams.

The women featured in the film range from amateurs training for the Golden Gloves to professionals struggling to make a go of it in the burgeoning women’s professional boxing world.  All have wonderful and inspiring stories of what has brought them to the fray of the boxing ring.  It is a story that will be well worth the wait.

http://www.fightingitthemovie.com/

Boxer’s heart

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Boxer’s heart

My paternal grandmother was one for the books.  A great raconteur, she came from a time and place where women were at the back of the pack no matter how hard they tried.  Still she dreamed and dreamed big, if not for herself than for her children, grandchildren and their children.

She was a widow who supported her two kids by working the graveyard shift as a night auditor in one of the big Manhattan hotels starting in the late 1940’s.    Her idea was to be home to get her children off to school in the morning and to be home when they came home from school in the afternoon, “like a normal family,” she’d say.  In many ways Grandma was luckier than most women in her situation because her Aunt also lived with them and willingly took on the burden of watching the kids at night.

One story Grandma always told was how her boss came to say that only the men were going to get raises that year because they had to support their families.  “What was I doing there, taking in the waters?” she’d say of the injustice.  “I’d a mind to quit, but what was I going to do then?”

She did eventually quit that job and worked her way up through the chain at a lot of different high-end hotels.  Still, she worked that graveyard shift for more than twenty years, only switching to days towards the end of her life when she was quite ill.  By then it was the early 1970’s and with feminism on her mind she’d say, “it’s a good time to be alive.”

I bring this all up because while she never set foot in a gym, she had a boxer’s heart.  She worked hard; fought for her family, and always jumped back up no matter how many times life knocked her down.  And while she may not have built the bridges she always dreamed of, I cannot think of a better legacy than ceding us her great spirit, her humor and her willingness to literally walk the extra mile if it meant bettering her family.

Playing hurt

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Playing hurt

Injuries are never fun.  There’s the moment of insult to your body, then coping with the physical pain on top of the emotional component that seeps in whether you want it to or not.  Let’s face it, most injuries ache, may well be serious, and can mean the end of a dream or at the very least a postponement.

Boxers have an interesting relationship with pain.  Getting hit can hurt!  It is shocking, jarring and can literary knock a boxer senseless.  For the most part, with good training and practice, the hurts don’t really hurt per se – especially at the level of sparring in the gym.  Sure, the hits can be hard, but with protective gear on, there is some modicum of safety.  More to the point, it’s the place where a boxer will work out his or her own relationship to pain.  To what pain means and to how cope with it, and to learn to differentiate between how the body absorbs a blow and where it creeps over the line to injury.

For women boxers the issue of playing-through-pain can take on other components.  Our relationship to pain is complex, after all, we go through the whole labor and delivery thing and that is no picnic.  Getting body-checked in the ring though can be no joke and one has to be “ready” for it on the one hand as part of the game of boxing, and on the other be prepared for the emotions of “getting hit.”   Many of us also have to work through, decades of mental conditioning on the subject of hitting, getting hit, our “delicate” dispositions, and unfortunately, a legacy of abuse of one kind or another.   This last can be a complex intrusion into the workout that’ll cause many a boxer to breakdown into a puddle of tears for no seeming reason long before an actual “hit” would ever fell a boxer physically or mentally.

In the end, boxers contend with all sorts of injuries all the time.  The usual suspects included pulled muscles, sprained ankles, concussions, broken noses and cut eyebrows.   The injuries we don’t see are the very old hurts they may have compelled us into the gym in the first place.  Those are the harder ones to acknowledge and heal, but eventually, if a boxer sticks with it, those aches get worked out too through a mixture of stamina, determination, grit and a lot of humor.

It just is

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It just is

My “dharma” teacher, a revered Theraveda Buddhist Nun back at Wat Suann Mokkh in Thailand was always fond of saying “it just is.”   The wisdom of most boxing trainers revolves around a similar refrain.  My current trainer, Lennox Blackmore is a master of such statements.     He has two flavors:  “it is what it is” and “wake-up.”

Thus, if one is training in a crowed ring – it is what it is.  Deal with it.  Get clocked sparring?  It is what it is, move on.  Get clocked again?  Wake-up!

As wisdom for the ages and frankly, as I “age,” I’m actually beginning to see where this all makes sense.  Is my kid, husband, family, cat driving me crazy?  Am I too hot, too cold, tired, hungry, over-worked, under-worked, grumpy, manic, obsessive, distracted, happy, sad, and on and on?  It just is.  Did I trip, forget where my glasses, keys, wallet, iphone are?  Wake-up.

It gets to be a world-wind after a while of “it is what it is” and “wake-up,” but somewhere in the midst of it I am beginning to actually hear the “be-here-now” at the center of the “it just is” and “wake-up” poles of being.

If I am here now, I will likely avoid the punch, or hit the speed-bag with perfect precision or never engage in the fight with my husband or daughter and actually remember where my glasses are.  I won’t be overly anything, but I will not trip on the sidewalk, get hit by a car crossing the street against the light or importantly, miss out on all of the tender moments with my family.   Somehow it’s hard to believe that I can personally go through life without the drama of  engaging riotously and waking-up, but having been “clocked” enough times by life’s travails, I’m beginning to see the wisdom of staying awake as a moment-to-moment way to be.

You can go home again!

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You can go home again!

Coming back to the gym after a long break is always a challenge.   Least ways, I usually find it that way.  On the one hand I sweat like crazy and find that my muscles remember what they’re supposed to do despite all the neglect.  And it does feel as if I’m coming back home.  Not that there is a brass band playing, but the “hey, how ya’ doing,” from gym-mates is nice.  The re-discovery of the contents of my locker is also fun especially since my boxer’s locker is filled with long-forgotten paraphernalia and equipment, the odd favorite pair of socks, and the reminder, yet again, that I’m running low on deodorant.

The hard part of coming back to the gym is how out of shape one can become in a short period never mind if it’s been weeks or months!  In my case, if I’ve been boxing steadily for a while, a hiatus feels like being in a fight with the Three Stooges, except that I’m Shep or Moe or Curly.  I’m the one with awful timing that feels as if I’m in the middle of an out-of-sync movie.

To save some “face,” there’s nothing like hitting the gym late on a Sunday afternoon.  By then, there are only a few folks around – and in my case, no trainer to say, “come-on girl,” when I begin outright panting during the second round on the pads.

For a first day back in a boxing gym, I’ve found the best thing to do is to attempt a short run to get loose followed by a tour of my hit-parade of favorite things to do.  My regime consists of a few rounds of shadow-boxing to warm up, followed by a round or two or three on the double-ended bag and a finish on the heavy bag for no more than an additional three rounds.  By the end, I don’t need an oxygen tank and I’ve gotten a decent work-out without pushing myself to a point of absolute misery.  More to the point, if I follow that up with one or two more short training sessions on my own, the sensation of working out in mud dissipates and I find I’m ready to get back in the ring with my trainer with at least some modicum of dignity!