Departure
I stand at the edge of the road in the outskirts of Pai and pull the door shut on the Mae Hong Son bound minivan transport. My face is flush, my heart beats loudly in my chest, but I feel a sense of calm. This fight was not worth winning against an opponent who chose to play dirty. A person who claimed they had no mal-intent towards me went for a kill shot. How unsurprisingly ironic.
Over the last two years martial arts strengthened my mind and body. When I first started attending karate and kick boxing classes in September 2021, I was in a league of my own, and not in the good way. Years of distractions and frustrations bursted out of me like a fire hydrant. Yet, for as much there was caution towards the 191 centimetre energetic giant who was now a trainee at Canada’s Best Karate, there was an overwhelming acceptance and welcome from my training partners and my Sensei. Martial arts has changed my being but has so rarely needed to be used in a conscious way, I was unskilled in these situations. Conflict for as much as it is a part of life is best avoided for the sake of all. Interpersonal conflict especially over petty matters, I think, is anti-social. It creates a bubble around those engaged in the conflict to the detriment of those who are in close by. As I walked down the side of the road in the outskirts of Pai the battle raged on, inside of me most of all.
As I walked towards independence, away from the harsh judgment and condescension levelled on me by someone whom I had trusted, I also walked away from something more meaningful – a teaching job in the fight against the Burmese military. The Karenni people had welcomed me into a civil war effort as a teacher at a school which educates the next generation of leaders and warriors. I forgot this. In the bubble I lost touch with reality as it was. Perhaps it was expected of a child from a split home, but I don’t like to live up to negative expectations.
Evasion
“I’m really sorry, clearly I am in the wrong. I’m going to spend a week training and meeting with my psychologist. Don’t tell the students the whole truth”.
SWOOSH.
For those of you who are not religious this might be difficult for you to understand, but it is these thoughts that rushed into my head at that time:
“He did say that we should turn the other cheek. Easy. Fighting back only puts you in deeper shit. I’ll heed that advice.”
“He said also that we should forgive seven times seven. What a bastard. How idealistic.”
That night I found myself in front of a Buddhist temple. A calm place for my veins pumped full of cortisol. I was shown to a covered sleeping area by Monk Mitya. There I introduced myself to Uten who came home late from his gig as a blues musician. Uten is a middle aged Thai man of small stature and quick wit. Perhaps due to his time spent living at the temple his pride was well within reason. He laughs easily and often. Also, he was a hot pink car. Cool guy.
Three nights at the temple meant I had been away from the school for a week. Most of the day I struggled to build from out of all that was torn down but each afternoon I took my mind off of the struggle as I punched and kicked leather pads for a couple of hours.
That weekend I attended a Muay Thai fight in Chiang Mai. As I listened and felt the sound of gloves smacking flesh and bone, I remembered why I had come to Thailand. It wasn’t so that I could clean up and attend culturally significant events, or perhaps it was, but I was in the wrong place. The Karenni people needed me but I needed them most of all.
One and a half weeks past. I experienced the dread that you feel when your laptop breaks down, the excitement that comes with the possibility of a new project, the letdown that comes when the project is rejected, and finally the cold sweats of illness.
Realization
When I finally messaged my colleague it was in a cold but professional manner. I had let this person into my life in trust, I had told them my insecurities, I had told them what I was struggling with, and they responded by reminding me of them in a public setting. If that was the revenge they felt that I deserved, I had really hurt them. Even so, in that text conversation, I put up a wall, I would not disclose my feelings nor articulate my thoughts. This was not the desired response. They perceived my defence as an attack and threatened that they would leave if I didn’t.
Within a few days of this sudden decision, I realized that the greatest mistake of all was the fact that I had walked away from the Karenni people. I had let someone manipulate my thoughts, I had let them make me question all my feelings over the previous two months. Two months, by the way, that had been filled with many exciting and memorable moments. Thinking of how they had hurt me, I had forgotten what I was there to do and the people I was there to serve. But now I remember, mentally I am back and ready to get to work.
Return
I tried my best to arrange a situation where I could work for the school without having personal contact with the individual who I might one day forgive but could never let back into my life. It was not possible. She called the shots, she was there, she is a “vulnerable” women and I’m man “twice her size”. I tried to walked against a rising tide, which in retrospect may not have been the wisest decision. So what? I fought for what I believed in and was willing to accept the consequences whatever they were. In this case it was an email with the title “Termination” from the principal of the school. Point taken.
Yesterday, in UFC 278 I watched Leon Edwards, down three rounds to one, knock out the champion of the world, Usman, with 56 seconds left in the fifth and final round. A violent reminder that it is never over until it is over. Losses, setbacks, and criticisms are part of a life well-lived. Oscar Wilde said that a life that protects against them is not a life worth living. Against all odds, Leon Edwards, the man raised in trying circumstances, in a wooden shack, defied the odds to take down the favourite. Physically speaking, it was only a left leg kick to the head, but these actions spoke many words, and I’m listening.
New Strength
Now you’ve heard. On a public blog I have opened myself up to the world. In the internet age, one’s profile is personally curated. Without a doubt, how you treat people in real life will shine greater, but one’s identity and reputation is now intimately wrapped up in your online performance. So here’s mine. Moving forward, I hope to develop a reputation based on respect, vulnerability, humility, strength, and openness.
Reading this some of you may even cringe, how could he have let such a tremendous opportunity slip from out of his grasp? How could he allow conflict with one person to put him out of work? And why would he admit it? His he doing it for attention? For clout? Yes. Why else would anyone else write a blog? Most importantly, however, I am displaying the type of person that I am, and the type of person that I commit to be moving forward. A man who, at times, is error prone, fallible and even weak.
In those failures I have found a new strength, one that does not shy away from the feelings of guilt and shame that are certain when mistakes are made. Instead, I am a man who will lean into failure and find strength in vulnerability. For under the greatest stress is where the possibility for growth is most possible.
On the last day of training in Pai I spot my next sparring partner. I am tall but not yet a massive man by any stretch. A friend once called me “lean but strong”. Pretty apt. Still though I never shy away from a challenge and in on this occasion I eyed up the largest man in the place because why not. In the previous sparring session I got dropped on my back a couple of times and took a shot to the nose. It made me stronger. This time, my large opponent had much less respect and more skill than I could handle. I took blow after blow, eventually keeping myself at a distance and throwing side kicks to stay out his range. I left the gym dejected, tears welling up in my eyes (“fuck that guy”) but despite the pain I felt, because of the pain I felt, I was even more motivated.
Each time you’re knocked down there is an opportunity to get back up. Each time you’re bitten, you earn the ability to spot the next snake that slithers nearby. Each time you lose an opportunity, there is room to create four more.
The path of the warrior was never meant to be easy. If it was, it would be the path of the common man. Stay strong, my friends. Until next time.
Becoming Superhuman 
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