Internal Dialogue

Earlier tonight, I performed with my students at the LPS Winter Showcase, a celebration of the talent that exists within our small high school community.  At the end of our martial arts routine, I came on stage and broke six bricks at the culmination of a dramatic piece of epic orchestral work.

I received a lot of great feedback from people, both for the break and for the overall performance, and I'm glad they enjoyed the show.  Many people wanted to check out my arm to see if I had hurt myself, and more than a few of them were flabbergasted at what seemed to them to be an extraordinary human feat. 

Inside my head, however, I was all too human. 

My conflict was not with the bricks.  It never is.  My battle is always within myself, at the crossroads in my mind where focus, skill, confidence, and preparation face off against distraction, doubt, fear, and misfortune.  Should I win, my bricks become twins.  I don't want to find out what happens if I lose.

The last time I tried this break, I made mistakes.  I misaligned the bricks and the break went poorly.  I paid no small price for that error.  Tonight would rectify that error, even as the memory of the last break attempt played over and over again, like a splinter in my mind.

There were plenty of other things which could have messed me up tonight.  That afternoon, I had modified the brief form routine that I use as a lead-in to the brick break, about 30 minutes before the performance.  We had also misplaced a wooden plank that we were going to use to provide stability to the slightly-springy portable stage, and I needed to compensate my hit to account for the give in the flooring.  The lighting from the stage crew switched to an alternating black/red pattern while I was setting up my break, creating a red strobe light effect that reduced my visibility to near-zero.  As I had initiated and committed my forearm to the strike, the lights switched off completely and I finished the break in the dark. 

None of this was part of the practice.  All of it had to be done on the spot.  My victory had to be won inside my head before it played out on the bricks.  I replayed my own pep talk to my students in my mind, which went something to the effect of: "The future hasn't happened yet, and we can't change the past.  The only moment we have control over is right now - the time when we can choose, and act.  Therefore, go out and choose well, so you have no worries and no regrets."


In the heat of the moment, with all eyes on me and my mind in conflict, I chose.

I chose to win.

Now I have 12 smaller bricks. :)