I was born in 1964 in Dalton Georgia. Dalton is located in the foothills of the Appalachian mountains. When I was 9 years old, My parents, my brother and I moved to a big farm with hundreds of acres of forest land and pasture surrounding us. My grandparents had their own house and lived on the same farm as well, about a stone’s throw away from our house.
I was around dangerous things nearly every day.
I often rode in the back of a pickup truck…like nearly daily.
I’m not sure we even had vehicles with seatbelts, probably, but no one used them.
Packs of wild dogs tried to kill me on two occasions, luckily tree climbing was easy for me.
I never got bit by a snake, but it wasn’t from lack of trying, copperheads are very fast…adrenaline is faster.
Lumber fell in a barn and either pinned, or killed outright, one of our dogs one winter, we found her in the spring. That could just as easily have been me.
I almost fell through the rotten flooring of our hayloft on several occasions. It was a 20 or more foot drop if I had fallen through.
I was thrown from a horse…a lot.
I fell from trees…a lot.
I just fell…a lot (I have epilepsy).
I got hurt…a lot.
Here I was, at age 9, I was roaming those forests, many miles from home. There were some deep forest ponds, hidden in the primeval, overgrown darkness. There were tons of streams, many running underground as fallen leaves become compost, and then eventually soil over the years. There were old growth trees and new growth. Wandering there in that ancient world, I found abandoned homesteads that were once cleared farms and were now buried in deep, dark forest. I found long ago overgrown lumber roads that led to nowhere. I drank from creeks and streams, ate wild muscadines and blackberries, and roamed over hills and even explored caves. There were fallen trees to use as bridges over the occasional deep crevasse, where, if I had fallen, no one would have ever found me. I occasionally got hopelessly turned around in those forests, but somehow always found my way home. I swam in the deep ravine that had been carved out next to the railroad track. I’m sure it wasn’t the cleanest water, but it was deep, and cold on a hot summer day. I played alone in the hayloft of our barn, a quarter mile from the house. There were horses, cows, cats and dogs, the occasional chicken, donkey and goat. There were wild animals too, most not dangerous, but bears were often in the area, but avoided people. Snakes were common and I was taught early how to look out for them and how to identify them. I would get hurt, bleeding badly and walk miles to get help…more than a few times.
I never thought of myself as being unsupervised, but by today’s standards, it was dangerous. During almost all of this time, I was alone, or with one of our dogs. There were no other kids there, other than my brother, and we kept our distance from each other. He was usually in town doing sports, with friends, or working on school stuff.
Today, kids don’t get this type of education. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but there is a resiliency, and inner toughness that occurs when we experience tough things.
A psychological study was done in Poland after World War II. These people saw incredible horrors during and after the war, first from the Germans and then from the Soviets. They experienced and saw horrific torture, rape, murder and starvation. Yet all of the people in the study, thousands of people, claimed to be happier after the war than they were before the war. They claimed an appreciation for peace, family and the simple things. They said that prior to the war, they were more upset by the little things and were more entitled and self centered.
There are studies going on today to try to determine why there is such a big uptick in mental health issues. This study is looking specifically at whether or not the focus on improving our mental health isn’t creating a pattern of more mental healthcare issues. The cure is creating the problem, so to speak. I’m really glad the stigma for getting help has been removed, but I think many just blame their diagnosis instead of trying to create a plan to fix the problem. “Well, I have PTSD so I need medication and therapy…nothing I can really do.”
As a kid, I remember often falling down and busting my knee or elbow, or chin, sometimes falling in a stream getting wet and covered with mud. I’d shrug it off, wipe off the mud and blood, spit out the mud and water, and usually, carry on whatever exploration I was on.
I remember running from some imagined enemy in the forest, maybe spooked by some shadow, following a game trail and leaping over a log, only to step right on a rattlesnake sunning himself there. The scare caused me to fall, but I rolled to my feet and kept running before he could strike, never looking back, just glad he was slow and I was fast.
I remember trying to pet the dog of my cousin and getting bit, badly and going to get stitches right next to my eye and on my chin. I never lost my love of dogs or gained a fear of them.
All of these situations were traumatic, and I felt momentarily stupid from them, and these were just a few of hundreds of similar screw ups as I grew up. I shrugged them off and went on. They cause only fond memories today, not latent anxiety or panic attacks. Why? I don’t know, it was a different time. But I think a lot of it was because everyone had screw-ups and failures and picked themselves up and went on. People learned and laughed about those lessons and shared their wisdom with each other and went on.
Today, social media has evolved to cause us to see everyone having such great days that when we don’t have a life as perfect as what they are showing us, we feel those “screw ups” with much more impact than they really need. The 12 year old sells his phone app for 14 million dollars. The 15 year old graduates with a PhD from Harvard. Jane and Roy’s kid scored another game winning touchdown. Joe and Clark’s business is now opening its third location. I am glad for these people, but it can affect me negatively if I let it.
I remind myself of all the accomplishments and amazing things I have in my life. I have a very successful business that I grew from scratch. I love what I do, it keeps me (moderately) fit and I have fun with my amazing students. I get to work with my awesome kids every day. I get more time with my wife than I would if I were working as a corporate wage slave. My incredible wife tackles amazing projects, learns new things, gives of herself without hesitation for friends and family.
But, I still see those successful people on Facebook and Instagram and know, I am affected by it.
Desire is the greatest conduit of misery.
Gratitude and appreciation are the best tools for happiness.
So how do we treat this problem? I have a potential solution. Let’s put ourselves and our kids through tough things, really tough things, but controlled tough things. Without running from the shadows in the woods, without the horrific risk of dog packs and rattle snakes. Without the German invasion of Poland or the abuses of the soviets.
Sparring is scary. Competing is scary. Losing is painful. Failing is painful. Falling down hurts. Getting the occasional, accidental bad hit or kick is painful, but all of these things, in this controlled environment, (where no one is really in danger) help us to build that inner strength so that all the little things don’t overwhelm us anymore.
Earning a Black Belt is hard. I mean, it’s really, really hard. It’s kind of supposed to be. But you can do it, so can your kids. How do I know? I’ve seen people just like you, and your kids, do this, hundreds of times, make that thousands. None of them expected to earn their Black Belts when they started. All of them suffered along the way, difficulty, pain, tedious practice, mind numbing repetitions, and yet not a single one of them regrets it, and all of them have a much higher level of inner strength and resiliency because of it. This is the answer. It’s not just a fun workout activity, or an amusing activity, it is life changing and we keep proving it, every single day.
As parents, instructors, teachers we are not here to make their lives easier, but instead to give them the strength to make their own lives easier. Replace the past dangers required to teach inner toughness with the controlled challenges of Martial Arts Training.
Earn that Black Belt, help your child to earn theirs. No one regrets it.