It must have been something I picked up on Face Book; a daily challenge that’s designed to sink into the subconscious then spreads like wildfire through the blood stream. Positive endeavors that provoke the deep inside to think of itself as a raindrop that slowly moves from the mountains of Montana, kissing the Missouri river then dumping into the mighty Mississippi just so the folks in New Orleans have something to look at.
Today’s challenge invites the reader to jot down a few words from a future self about what’s been accomplished.
The pessimist instantly grabs the microphone and utters out of tune comments while the optimistic image in the mirror caters to a different field of seeds sprouting dreams.
The current self wants to break bread with the figures once known as Grandma and Grandpa; not to seek another dollar for my nearby birthday but rather gather the knowledge required to do nothing more than find faith in every corner of our constantly changing circles.
Which I believe is the main driving force behind why I trust the way of the Black Belt path. Every step taken hasn’t been lived before me.
Too often students of martial arts become addicted to maintaining a curriculum whose reward system is a series of belts; each represents a level of growth not the memory of movements made in forms that resemble Hollywood movies. Its human nature to think of yourself as being the best by the color of the belt your wear and not the blood you’ve shared.
The belt doesn’t make the man; the man makes the belt.
In early 2000 I sat in the center of a Native American sacred circle that gifted my insight with the newly born east, grateful west, knowledge filled north and a south whose history can never be changed. Like all boys who truly never grow up; it’s a willing desire to seek the handshake of a true warrior. But to know a warrior you must become the warrior; my heart was set on separated definitions. I wanted to know only one warrior he who sought peace…
Without warning, not even an agreement with three ghost figures said to have visited an old man on Christmas eve one time…fate put my fists, feet and way onto a path that would lead realms of reality away from everyday occurrences right onto a journey toward lessons taught over and over again for over 2,000 years.
Not a reason was explained until a requirement of history was to be researched before entering the honor of being called a 2nd Dan black belt. I called the project Modern Day Masters of the Kwans. The future me believed no belt was worth its presence unless I fully understood where the roots of this living tree sprouted its source of energy. http://arroe.net/from_published_author_and_2nd_da.htm
The unfiltered attempt at connecting dots painted a portrait of a vast array of futures met then set again and again. In 2000 I didn’t realize the warrior’s hands I’d shake would be that of multiple Master’s of an ancient form of communication not necessarily with people but to a self if given a voice would choose peace over all other things.
By listening to the future the height of every mountain faced grew smaller.
Now it’s your turn…
Silence the pessimist for its voice is always too loud; give reason for the optimistic to build for you a bridge over your current struggles. Do nothing more than listen to the wind. Julia Cameron constantly writes about taking walks around blocks while Thich Nhat Hahn teaches that true peace is found in the way you promote it.
Demanding you want a pay raise is American culture but do you live up to the belt that which you wear? Anyone can be a radio on-air talent. The only skill required is knowing who your audience is not just today but everyday even while standing in the liquor line at an ABC store.
Getting a book published is extremely exciting until you sit in the row at Barnes and Nobel and count the number of hardcover readers that never stop to leave a fingerprint on what seemed so important to you.
I’m not saying, “Don’t!”
I’m sharing, “If you do…understand who it is you’re trying to reach.”
Those who have green thumbs realized along the way that it’s not a current moment that’s invited color to a summer day but rather a connection with a future waiting to be discovered.
When was the last time you purchased a plant at Home Depot and it lasted longer than a single dry summer? No day passes that everyday average people invest their hard to locate money in plants that are raised in nursery’s to live in the moment then pass into a memory forgotten.
How’s that career going for ya? Are you a great company investment or a tiny purple daisy that looks just ok nestled next to the mailbox? Ever had a conversation with the future? It’s talking to you right now…
I will always believe in you first…
arroecollins@clearchannel.com
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