The Heart of a Champion

A warrior is diligent and intentional every moment of every day. One who is humble displays the heart of gentleness, patience, and humility in all of the best ways. I believe this is in part why Master Di Loreto chose to make our class motto “humble warrior” as seen on the patch that many of us wear. I am so thankful that all my years practicing martial arts have been with Master Di Loreto as my instructor. He is a pillar of strength: physical, mental, and spiritual. He is a skilled martial artist. Most importantly, he is a model of gentleness, patience, and humility that we all look up to. All of the impact I have had in his school has been with his blessing and mentorship. In this way, everything I can claim to have done for Zen Martial Arts has been filtered, enabled, and supported by him, and I will forever be grateful for the good this has done for me and our school.

When people think of the martial arts, I wonder how many correlate it with gentleness, patience, and humility. Through Master Di Loreto’s oversight, our class has always done very well demonstrating these qualities, with each person demonstrating them in their own ways. Whenever we give feedback to one another, our goal is for it to be constructive. Whenever we train with each other, we try to do so safely while still creating an environment of learning and growth. Whenever we welcome new members into the class, we do so warmly. And whenever conflict or concern arises, we try to handle it with grace. These things take a significant amount of gentleness, patience, and humility. While this is the environment I have grown up in since starting at the age of five, it took time for me to understand and fully embrace what all of this means. I was a very motivated child, so soon after joining Zen Martial Arts with my dad, I had the opportunity to test for my yellow belt in front of Grandmaster Yip. Although the event has mostly faded from my memory, I remember Yip saying that I would be a champion one day. In my youth, I thought that being a champion meant being the best and that my progression would enable me to overpower and outperform other martial artists.

It was not long before the fallacy of this assumption began to show itself. A couple of years later when I was seven years old, a new family joined the class. The sister was older and bigger than me. She took to the martial arts quickly, and despite my higher rank, there was a clear contrast in our sparring abilities that was not in my favor. I recall many times when her kicks would hit me square in the chest and knock the wind out of me, making me shy away from wanting to spar with her at all. Truthfully, she probably was not kicking very hard from her perspective. And in every other way, I remember her being very kind, so I am certain that she did not intend to hurt me. Yet I did not have the maturity at that point to say anything about it and I would always try to hide when I was hurt. I desired to grow stronger, faster, and more efficient in my practice. This in itself is not an unreasonable pursuit. I hope that everyone can see the value in progressing their skills. But I felt weak, and in that weakness, I compensated with competitiveness and an unspoken idea that gaining the ability to overpower someone would make me a better martial artist. This attitude was not sustainable for many reasons. It made me prideful. Little mistakes appeared much larger in my mind. In many ways, it discouraged productive training as I developed a fear of failure and of admitting I could be wrong. I am glad that with age, experience, and proper guidance, an attitude like this becomes a choice instead of instinct.

My little brother was born when I was nine years old and my parents offered me an opportunity to hold him. I was instructed to hold him firmly such that he would not fall and his head would be fully supported, but to not squeeze so hard that it would hurt him. This was described to me as gentleness. I remember how quickly my arms got tired when holding him that way. It is a testament to the fact that applying gentle strength requires more effort than if that strength was not restrained. I began to understand how to apply gentleness, but I assumed the main reason to be gentle was to not hurt someone weaker than myself, such as my baby brother when I was holding him. It is very good to strive to not hurt others, especially in activities such as the martial arts, but gentleness can have a larger impact than this alone.

When I first ventured into martial arts training outside of Zen Martial Arts, much time had passed and my diligence had brought me a long way in my practice. I was fifteen years old and had already earned my 2nd-degree brown belt. I was no stranger to throws and grappling, but I knew there would always be more to learn. I joined Evan Bucy’s Aiki-jujutsu class for teenagers. While my decade of experience in the martial arts set me apart from my peers and I learned the new material quickly, I was shocked by the ease with which Evan could move and throw me around. The first time I experienced him throwing me, I felt like my head was falling straight toward the ground. Having never been in this predicament before, a sense of panic washed over me and my body tensed up as my reflexes incorrectly assumed that such tension would help me. And in that moment I felt a shift in my momentum as Evan drew my head closer to himself, supporting my lower back with his hand. He set me down gently on the mat with a loud thump. And just as the realization of what had occurred settled in, he helped me to my feet and with a huge grin said, “Let’s go again!” Over the next few years, as I got better at falling safely, he would be less and less gentle until he no longer needed to support my weight to keep me safe. And that strength he demonstrated to me was exactly what I needed at the time. I did not receive his ability to overpower me easily as a threat. By this point, I had the maturity to recognize that his expression of gentle strength was for my benefit, much like an older brother cradling his newborn sibling. It was humbling and inspiring all at once. It was an invitation for me to try hard, be thrown outside of my comfort zone safely, and learn from the experience. Eight years later, I now have size and weight on him and he has an ankle that is weakened post-surgery. He can still throw me around with ease. He delights in every bit of progress that I make, and he continues to strive for his own. He is like an older brother to me now in more ways than one.

It was not long after starting training in Evan’s class before he took me on as an apprentice of sorts and I would assist him in teaching classes. In addition to this, he extended an invitation for me to join him in training with the Budo Tanren group, the main source of his internal power practices and understanding. The founder of Budo Tanren, Dan Harden, is known to have said that the practice is not intended for anyone under the age of 25. At that point, Evan himself barely made the cut, and there were many years between us. Instead of feeling left out due to my age, the group accepted me as I was and included me in the practice, telling me to “fake it ‘til I make it.” I was curious why age would matter in the practice and asked the lead instructor, Chris Moses, along with a couple of my other instructors who were there, Steve and Ben. They pointed at my right bicep and told me to soften it. No matter how much I tried to relax, it would not soften as they wanted. As is true of all sixteen-year-olds, my muscles had not yet fully developed, meaning they lacked the density to support my motions fully. Adding to this, I just had a growth spurt, making my muscles taut against my bones. They then gestured toward my head and said that as much growth as will happen across my body, far more will happen in my brain. And they were right. Instead of doing the easy thing and telling me to wait until I was fully ready, the group took me in and acknowledged me as one of their own. They celebrated my successes whenever they came, and encouraged my persistence when things were hard, accepting that it was all part of the journey. That has had a wonderful impact not only on my own growth and training but also on what I have been able to bring back with me in my practice in Zen Martial Arts. By the founder of Budo Tanren’s standards, I am still too young now, and yet by the gentleness, patience, and humility of my instructors, I can be proud of what I have achieved and where they have demonstrated I will go with it.

This journey and these types of experiences pointed me to a broader understanding of gentleness, patience, and humility. Gentle strength is the best kind of strength. It is not used against anyone but for someone. It is one of the most powerful tools a martial artist can have, not just in caring for others, but also in bringing out the best in them. As I reflect on the journey I have had growing both as a person and martial artist, I do not think I have learned anything positive from someone merely overpowering me, be it by strength or wit, though many have over the years. Instead, I can attribute almost all of my growth and development in martial arts to a quality that all of the best teachers share: a gentle, patient, and humble heart. How this heart expresses itself can take many forms depending on the time, place, and people involved. Though it took time, maturing, and exploration on my part to recognize this, in hindsight I realized that I have always had role models in my life championing this heart. My parents have always had this heart for me. One of the things I am most thankful for in my martial arts training growing up is that I did it with my dad. By the nature of our relationship and his character as a father, there are more times than I can remember when he has been gentle and patient with me. Beyond that, though, he has always placed me first. While he would be quick to tell you that fatherhood has been a huge contributor to this trait, it is a quality he brings with him in all that he does, including martial arts, and to everyone he interacts with. I have grown up observing a fraction of how strong and talented he is, and yet he will humbly set all that aside when the act of doing so will help to build another person up. My mother has not trained in martial arts alongside me in this way, but she has had just as much of an impact in raising me, demonstrating all the same qualities and sacrificing her time and effort to propel me to where I am today. My parents achieve all this with an attitude of gentleness, patience, and humility.

I have never stopped venturing out and gaining new experiences. Both in the martial arts and outside of it, I have had the opportunity to meet many more people who I can recognize as champions of this sort, those who carry this heart with them in all that they do. After earning my black belt in Zen Martial Arts at seventeen years old, I wanted to spend more time working on my grappling. I decided the sport of Brazilian Jiu-jitsu would be a great way to accomplish this, so I joined the nearest Gracie Barra school. Lala Colada was a competition purple belt in the class who had just recently been promoted. Despite her small stature, she was a nightmare grappler. She did not need to overpower anyone with strength when she could find a joint lock or choke them from any angle within the first few seconds of grappling, and that is exactly what she could do to me. She was capable of overwhelming me with her skill in the sport, but after a couple of rounds, she began to coach me along, giving me opportunities to see what she was doing and explore my potential responses. She just received her black belt this year and I am glad the Gracie Barra school has uma professora such as her. Marcio Marques, who we all called “Capoeira” due to his experience in it growing up outside of the States, was another competitive purple belt in the class and was preparing for a tournament. A win would mean his promotion to brown belt, and a loss would mean more waiting. He was the picture of a champion in the literal sense of the word, with all the physical prowess necessary to set him apart and the dedication to progress rapidly through the ranks. This never alienated him from the rest of us. After classes in this school, the mat would open up to anyone who wanted to roll, and one night he approached me and asked if I would be willing to help him warm up. He proved to be the fastest grappler I ever had the opportunity to train with. After I would commit to guarding one angle, in a split second he would cartwheel over to my blind angle and have a submission ready on the other side. Despite his speed, he never once felt out of control. I observed all the ways he would accommodate to give me space to move and explore grappling patterns of my own. One might think that because I was his easy mode, this would be an act of charity on his part. I could tell this was not the case. He had as much fun training with me as I had training with him. The way he engaged with me was just as productive for his training as it was for mine. Afterward, he laughed with a smile, patted me on the back, and in a mix of English and Portuguese told me that I had great energy and was on to great things. He continues to be a champion, both through his success in tournaments and in his heart for others.

I met Sean Kim the first week of my freshman year of college and found we had much in common. We lived in the same dorm on the same floor, we studied computer science as a major, and we were both passionate about martial arts. I invited him to visit our class, but the timing did not work out and then the pandemic hit, postponing everyone’s plans. Sean and I had the opportunity to reconnect in our senior year and formed a solid friendship. I am glad the timing finally worked out post-graduation for us to start training together. He and his sister, Lauren Kim, have been joining our class as visiting instructors these past few months. They are both accomplished 4th-degree black belts in Kukkiwon Taekwondo and have a wealth of knowledge and skill, especially in matters of kicking. They have approached our class with gentleness, patience, and humility, both as novices in our style and experts in their own. In sparring, while they could easily lock in and send flurries of kicks both hard and fast, they instead demonstrate gentleness and control in how they engage with us. When you get the chance to spar with them next, I want to challenge you to see that there is more to this than is readily apparent. Their gentleness is not merely the restraint of strength and power in their techniques. By their patience, positioning, and movements, they will gently nudge you to try something new. This is both for their benefit and yours, and much is to be gained from recognizing this. What I have observed and they have reflected on themselves, is that while they are champions in the ways I have described, so are each of us in class. They have been welcomed into our school in many of the same ways I experienced when I was welcomed into Evan’s practice and the Budo Tanren group, and this was not the work of Master Di Loreto and myself alone. Each person in our class has done an amazing job championing gentleness, patience, and humility for them as well. Through this, they have found a home in our community.

Grandmaster Yip is the founder of Zen Martial Arts. Master Di Loreto has often recounted this story about him. At lunch one day, in an abrupt accident, a man slammed into Yip and their food and drinks fell all over. The man raged, and Di Loreto admits that on hearing the story, a part of him wished that Yip had demolished the guy as he easily could have. Instead, Yip apologized to the man and offered to buy him lunch to replace what was lost, defusing the situation and teaching a very valuable lesson in the process. Based on Master Di Loreto’s story of him, what do you think Grandmaster Yip means by the term champion? I believe it is less about the strength of a martial artist and more a testament to the character and virtues they represent. Following Grandmaster Yip’s example, the Zen Martial Arts has a legacy of gentleness, patience, and humility. Under Master Di Loreto’s influence, it has become all the more prominent and clear. These qualities do not hinder productive martial arts training. They enable it. They draw us together as a community in mutual growth and serve as a solid foundation for our interactions with others. So I have a charge for each of you, that you will continue to champion the Zen Martial Arts as humble warriors. In this way, we will keep seeing progress in our lives and continue our martial arts legacy for generations to come.