How Jiu-Jitsu Ruined My Life
Everything stinks and it’s all my fault.
At 19, I fantasized about a dream.
I wanted a life that allowed me to train martial arts all day, travel, think, and tell stories.
It was a simple, but difficult dream.
I also, somehow, wanted to be paid for this. I did not have any idea how I was going to do this, and I had little hope that it was possible. I was always a realist and thought my dream would always remain a dream. I was not cynical, but I was not confident.
Times have changed, however. I’m much less of a realist these days and much more of a dream-chaser — for better and for worse.
In hindsight, when I think about my choices over the last few years, the biggest difference between my dream and the dreams of others is that I didn’t view this as a “dream” life. I viewed it as an obligation to myself and my future to create the life that I had fantasized about.
I knew what I wanted, and I was willing to do whatever I must to get it.
This decision has almost ruined my life, and it continues to do so every single day.
Jiu-Jitsu ruined my life, and I’m pretty happy about that.
