21 Days Challenge: Week 1

Hobonobo
Hobonobo
Aug 9, 2017 · 5 min read

Right off the bat, writing for strangers about my own emotions is nerve wrecking to say the least. There were four main emotional moments that I experienced this past week which lingered in my memories long enough to signify their importance.

An experience of shame. It all began with a conversation between myself and a colleague in China. I had asked her for some information she claimed she did not have, and when I asked her to derive the information from our client in China, she immediately sent me the information. In mere seconds. When I told her that was a lightning reply, she replied that the client would be on leave soon. Which had no relation to whatever we were talking about. I experienced doubt and suspicion, and felt like I was being cheated by my own time. It was also a confusing moment as I could not figure out why she would want to withhold such information. I had a conversation with my boss about this and she agreed that she too had her fair share of mistrust towards my colleague because of prior actions. In a fit of annoyance and anger, I sent her an email, cc-ing her boss inside it, thanking her for reaching out to our notorious-to-reach-client. Obviously my intention was not to thank her, but it was to call her out on what she did. That hopefully after her boss reads the email, he confronts her about it. Yet after I pressed that sent button, the “see I got you” triumphant feeling quickly dissipated. I was not proud of what I did, because I had deliberately taiji-ed the responsibility to my boss in China, hoping that he would admonish her if she was indeed found to have lied. More importantly, I had not even asked her myself whether she lied, and if she did so, why. And if responsibilty is my ability to respond, that was a pretty shitty one. It was an episode that took place over minutes, but I feel a sense of shame thinking about it. My intention was not to support her growth as a colleague and person, but to criticise her for a possible lapse of judgement. Ultimately, it was not about whether she was indeed lying or not, but how I choose to react to her actions that reflects my intention.

An experience of pride. I’ve been learning Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for about 7 months now. I’m not a particularly agile person. I randomly slip while walking on my two feet. In proper cushioned shoes. On flat ground. I have butter fingers worsened by sweaty palms. If I were in a horror movie, I would be that character who is the first to be killed in some grotesque fashion. Suffice to say, I take a longer time than my peers to learn. Being competitive, I always ask myself why I am so much slower, my hand-eye coordination so much poorer, and my flexibility non-existent. Two months ago, I started skipping classes more often, and I attributed it to work, but if I were being honest it was an excuse to miss classes so that I could prevent myself from feeling not good enough when I got trashed on the mats. Until last week. I went for training and there was the customary sparring session. I sat by the side watching my classmates face-off in pairs. One of my classmates was having trouble fighting off his opponent and as he struggled he asked my coach, “What should I do?” I expected my coach to give him some technical guidance but all my coach said was, “Be like water.” In my head I thought, “Okay, nice try for quoting Bruce Lee but how does that help?” Sure enough, my classmate was thrown off the bat by what my coach said (and thrown off by his opponent shortly after). Just when I thought it would not work, my coach simply stepped up, demonstrated the move, and it worked like magic. It was almost as if he flowed along with his opponent, he wasn’t resisting but following, he was like…water. At that very moment I felt like a million light bulbs had gone off in my head simultaneously, and everything made sense. Be like water — adapt and react. Just then one of my teammates invited me to spar with him. The last time I sparred with him I didn’t stand a chance. He’s about 180cm, and 80 plus kilograms. I’m 160cm and 52 kilograms. This felt like David versus Goliath part II. So when we sparred, this time, I was already prepared to lose. True enough, I was submitted a couple of times. But lo and behold, I managed to finally get into mount position with a few minutes to spare! Sitting on top of him, I tried to do an armbar but he was bumping me off with his hip. At that rate and with his strength, I would be tossed off in seconds. At this point I thought of the move my coach thought which was the exact technique to combat this move my opponent was doing. But there was fear in my heart. I’ve never done this move before, I’ve only seen it with my eyes, with my clumsiness how could I pull it off? Strangely enough, “Be like water” appeared in my mind. Go with the flow. Trust myself. And I did. My opponent bumped me hard the first time and I tried to execute the move but failed. I held on, he bumped me a second time, more vigorous this time, and I could not carry out my move. Still I refused to budge. The third time, it was like something magical happened. I slid up to his side in a half-jump, swung my leg over, fell back and pulled his arm along with me, and he tapped! This was the first time I had ever submitted anyone in a sparring match and I felt elated. My heart was filled with so much joy, and I was super proud of myself. All I could think of was, “Yes I did it!” And that I had proved my inner doubts wrong. That was such a powerful moment for me.

Experiences of everything. This was one of the hardest weeks I had experienced in a relationship. So many inner demons that raged in my head and heart. Doubts of — do I want to commit? Is there a backup plan? to existential crises — what are relationships for? Pros and cons of being alone? I experienced moments of selfishness — my career comes before everything, what if this relationship damages my progression? I want to achieve xyz by the time I am 30, and hey here’s this article of someone highly accomplished and single. And another one, and another one. Is that what it took? But is that what the purpose of life is? Moments of anger — how can I do this to another human being, especially someone I love? What do my actions reveal about my true nature? Experiences of sadness — missing someone at certain moments, thinking about the what ifs and could bes. If this does not last, what becomes of our friendship? Feelings of reconcilation — how do I repair this? What does it take to prevent this from happening again? These were all thoughts and feelings I experienced throughout the week. But a feeling that is slowly seeping in, but I struggle with that, is surrender. And it’s an irony to struggle with surrender, because surrender means to not struggle. And learn to let go and accept that I am not a superhuman. It’s humanely impossible to do everything and be everything. And if I do accept that, then what do I choose?

    Hobonobo

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