Shifting to Flow
There I was, doing everything I could to not lose. I was desperately holding on for all I was worth.
After getting through lots of classes and a test, I was finally allowed to roll with the “big boys (and girls)” in the jiu jitsu class — which meant basically anyone that had some color on their belt.
So, there I was, caught in the guard of a blue belt… pretty sure that my position was likely to worsen at any moment. Would I be swept to the bottom? Would I find myself in a choke hold or a limb lock?
Not wanting that to happen, I locked in and held tight. Any attempt to shift my arms, I met with resistance. I was not using technique, but muscling. Which is eventually a problem, since I was burning through my energy. My opponent was waiting it out, patiently.
After a bit of back-and-forth, where neither of us progressed, my opponent asked, “Is this what you want to do? Just hold on? Or do you want to see what comes next?”
No, I thought, I did not want to see what was next.
I did not want to lose. I did not want to lose ground, lose the match, or have to tap out. Which is why I was holding on for all I was worth!
And slowly running out of energy.
Later on, I would see this moment as one point of shifting in my approach to training (there would be others). I was frustrated with my opponent’s words. Not because the words were wrong — they weren’t! But because I was still missing a piece of the progression equation in jiu jitsu. I did not want to lose. But I had no confidence I could win.
If you aren’t familiar with jiu jitsu, it is a bit different than other martial arts. If I were in a striking art (I did that in my teen years, with taekwondo), any sparring would be limited. Nobody would be okay with repeated, full strength head or body hits (by hand or foot). So, you had to pull punches, practice without a person (either a kata or a bag), or wear lots of protective equipment. And even then, with all the precautions, I had at least one concussion to show for those years.
In jiu jitsu, we could “roll” (the equivalent of sparring) at full speed, with the understanding that if your opponent had you, either in a choke or a joint lock, you could simply tap on your opponent, and they would release you. So, we went hard every time.
To be clear, the rolling was not about having a winner or some class champion. It was to learn. And you could learn, even if you lost. In fact, a favorite quote in class was Nelson Mandela’s, “I don’t lose. I either win or learn.” The truth is, you either learn or learn. The point was not really to win (although we were all trying). The point was not to lose (although none wanted to). The point was to learn.
But much like the parents in scoreless kids’ athletic events, you know the score!
So, I was trying desperately to not lose.
Which meant that neither I nor my opponent was doing any learning.
Well, I did learn that I had to stop trying to not lose. Which meant that I made a shift — to winning! I was out to win!
Yes, I would let the roll progress. I would see what would happen… so that I could win! Which was fine, except you can’t always win.
And that is frustrating, when you are trying to win.
So, some days, I would win and be proud. Other days, I would lose and be frustrated on my drive home. I was slowly realizing, though, that this was not what I needed. Focusing on winning was not helping my learning any more than focusing on not losing.
Well, the pandemic put an end to my time in jiu jitsu. Yes, I did return to class when it was possible. But we also made a choice to move, due to some shifting values that the pandemic helped to clarify. So, I left the gym behind… and then we were busy with relocating to our new place.
Enter pickleball.
My wife and I were trying to find our physical and social outlet — rebuilding a community after 34 years in one city is a challenge. My brother and my sister-in-law were enjoying pickleball. And so, we decided to give pickleball a go.
Once again, I was caught in the “not lose/win” mentality. But at least I knew better now!
I’ve made progress in pickleball, with my playing and my goal for playing. Now, my goal is to improve. Would I prefer to win? Sure. And sometimes, my ego trips me up. But I will still tell you that my goal is to get better.
Which tends to be a pretty big lesson for life, wouldn’t you agree? Life is about learning. Experimenting and doing better. Life is less about win/lose and more about expanding yourself.
One of my nephews got me back into disc golf. Back in my teen years, a buddy and I would play frisbee golf almost daily. We made up our own course, since there wasn’t one near us. We’d choose a pole — light or sign — and that was the target. Sure, we kept score. But it was mostly a chance to walk around and talk.
My nephew played on real courses. So I had to upgrade my game. Now, I have a backpack and quite a few discs (not that one frisbee from my teen years). Then, one day, I realized, I only needed a handful of those discs. Three or four was all I needed. I had no idea how to maximize the capacity of the other discs, anyway. I realized I was shooting as poorly with three as with twenty. So, I simplified my game.
And while I wasn’t horrible (I still had some muscle memory from the frisbee days), I wasn’t a protege.
I was good enough to not embarrass myself, but not good enough to win. But I could live with that! After all, it really was mostly an excuse to walk in the woods and hang with my nephew.
Still, I noticed how people (me, included) would get all uptight about “THE shot.” There would always be the shot that seemed like a “make or break.” And at that moment, the heat was on. I’d tense up, over-think it, and generally miss.
Then, I was reading a book on disc golf. The author said that his game was transformed by one shift in beliefs. The shift was pretty simple: every shot was just a shot. There was no “THE shot.” Only another shot. Anything beyond that was self-imposed belief. If I had a tough shot, it was likely because of the prior shot — or mis-shot. Every shot was equally important. Not a make-or-break. Just another shot.
This was true in pickleball, too. Each point was another point. Not THE point. But another point. A game was built on the progression of points, up to 11. And that thought often kept my mind in the game. Instead of focusing on the distance between our score and our opponents’ score, I focused on THIS point, THIS hit. It wasn’t about making up the gap, but taking it a point at a time… a shot at a time. And each shot was now about staying in the game.
As long at the other team had not hit 11, we were still in the game. One point at a time.
And yes, that was an awareness I started to discover in jiu jitsu. In jiu jitsu, every single move had a counter. I moved, my opponent moved, I responded, my opponent responded… until one of us couldn’t or didn’t counter and had to tap.
A match in jiu jitsu was an opportunity to learn. Sure, like any competition, there is a winner or loser in every arena. Which simply revealed who succeeded in that moment, that time.
My shift was to flow. Flowing with the process, flowing with a game, flowing with a partner or opponent. The point was to learn. And you learn in flow, not in struggle. Remember that struggle is not the same as struggle. Lots of things in life take effort. In fact, pretty much anything that matters will take some effort. But struggle is entirely different. It is about fighting what is, trying to “strong arm” your way through. Think of the difference between swimming with a current, and flailing in a current. Effort versus struggle. And we get to choose whether we struggle or not. We might not have a choice about effort.
What does this have to do with anything in life? So glad you asked!
The Beginner’s Mind matters in every arena of life. Sure, you and I have more skills and capacities every day. So, it is easy to forget the Beginner’s Mind. But what I learned in each of these areas is that I am constantly learning. What worked against one opponent would fail with another. What got the points one day wouldn’t the next.
In most areas of life, we have opportunities to try again. Sure, there are big decisions. But most days are about small challenges. Didn’t win that one? Shake it off, learn from it, and await the next opportunity to give it a try. I didn’t think much about it, but several instructors talked about how I would just laugh when they got me to tap. For me, it just meant that it was time to reset and restart. Lose a match? No biggie. Unless, of course, I forgot to learn from it. Then, it was a waste.
Some days you win, some days you lose. But every day, you can learn. We, as humans, have the capacity of learning, from birth to death. Unless we one day decide that we have “arrived,” and there is nothing more to learn. There always is. Maybe it is small. Maybe it is large. The learning awaits us… when we allow it in.
Effort is a part of life. Struggling is optional. We can put forth the effort, or waste our energy in the struggle. We can flow, or we can struggle. But much of life is about waiting to see what is revealed next. Whether we like it or not, next comes anyway.
Are you curious enough to see what comes next? What can you learn?
I hope you’ve found a new gym and gotten back on the mats!