I was just reading a scientific study on grammar and composition. In it, teachers asked students to write a short essay and also to write emails to their friends.
It turns out that in every case the emails were written with better grammar and composition, despite the fact that the students knew that both would be graded for grammar.
Why would that be the case?
I wonder if the same is not true for us as competitors in many cases.
When writing an essay, there's a certain level of expectation attached. Perhaps we expect ourselves to write with a certain voice, or a certain inflection, or a certain flair. Writing in this uncomfortable voice has a tendency to make us overthink and commit errors.
But when writing an email to our friends we speak very concretely. We speak very matter-of-factly, and there are no certain expectations of our voice or our manner of writing. We flow.
Perhaps the same is true when we compete. We lay upon ourselves a heavy burden of expectations and performance up to a certain standard. But when we train in the gym, we don't carry that same level of expectation. Instead we just perform our techniques, and we perform with a certain ease and a certain grace that only comes with comfortability.
This is the great paradox of the competitor. Experience can only be gained by going out and gaining experience.
I challenge you to sign up for a competition very soon. Not, however, in order to win or lose. But rather, to find stillness; to find comfort in the face of the uncomfortable.
The ramifications of this type of experiment are tremendous. Not only do you improve as a martial artist, but you find an opportunity to improve as a human being.
Who among us could not stand to improve as a husband or wife? Or as a father or mother? Or as a driver? Or an employee? Or a boss? Or a student? These are the things that we truly seek as martial artists.
You guys often hear me say that you think you're here to learn to fight, but instead you're learning to seek excellence.
Seek excellence in all that you do. Often times, that will mean testing yourself with fire. And when we play with fire, sometimes we get burned. But those scars are so important. They educate us, they shape us, they mold us.
And without our scars we have no story.
It turns out that in every case the emails were written with better grammar and composition, despite the fact that the students knew that both would be graded for grammar.
Why would that be the case?
I wonder if the same is not true for us as competitors in many cases.
When writing an essay, there's a certain level of expectation attached. Perhaps we expect ourselves to write with a certain voice, or a certain inflection, or a certain flair. Writing in this uncomfortable voice has a tendency to make us overthink and commit errors.
But when writing an email to our friends we speak very concretely. We speak very matter-of-factly, and there are no certain expectations of our voice or our manner of writing. We flow.
Perhaps the same is true when we compete. We lay upon ourselves a heavy burden of expectations and performance up to a certain standard. But when we train in the gym, we don't carry that same level of expectation. Instead we just perform our techniques, and we perform with a certain ease and a certain grace that only comes with comfortability.
This is the great paradox of the competitor. Experience can only be gained by going out and gaining experience.
I challenge you to sign up for a competition very soon. Not, however, in order to win or lose. But rather, to find stillness; to find comfort in the face of the uncomfortable.
The ramifications of this type of experiment are tremendous. Not only do you improve as a martial artist, but you find an opportunity to improve as a human being.
Who among us could not stand to improve as a husband or wife? Or as a father or mother? Or as a driver? Or an employee? Or a boss? Or a student? These are the things that we truly seek as martial artists.
You guys often hear me say that you think you're here to learn to fight, but instead you're learning to seek excellence.
Seek excellence in all that you do. Often times, that will mean testing yourself with fire. And when we play with fire, sometimes we get burned. But those scars are so important. They educate us, they shape us, they mold us.
And without our scars we have no story.
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