Tag Archives: Jiu Jitsu

Old Man Jiu-Jitsu And Why My Boy Won’t Hit You

Jiu-Jitsu Disciplined Me & My Son

Jiu-Jitsu with my son, YuriAs a martial art, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu stands apart. It requires live matches as a regular part of training and provides solutions to fights that won’t end in civil lawsuits.

Many physical disciplines have a host of benefits beyond their main focus. Yoga offers more than stretching. Boxing offers more than punching.

Jiu-Jitsu offers a robust package within a playful wrapping and shared by a tight-nit community of old souls.

It is a challenge in time, money, pain, and injury, but for both my son and I, it has been a worthwhile year at Renzo Gracie Academy, Portland.

Why do something that hurts?

Quote from my Gi's neck
“Fighting is the best thing a man can have in his soul.” -Renzo Gracie’s words on my gi’s collar.

I am lazy.

It’s easy for me to lose a day, a week, a year doing nothing I can take pride in.

There is always the easy path away from challenges. In another life, I’d be alone and drifting, avoiding pain and purpose.

Every time I ride my bicycle to Jiu-Jitsu class, I think about quitting.

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Father @ Forty, Son @ Seven

My Seven Year Old

Seven on a snow day

Seven on a snow dayYuri at seven is following my footsteps and frustrating everyone, including a much better version of the bullish vice principle that I faced at eight.

Y- “What?”

J- “It’s true; now go back to ignoring me.”

My son’s version is a pragmatic woman that is taking puzzling him out as a challenge with his success her goal.

As wonderful and patient as she and his school is, they need help.

When I was his age…

I doubted the authority of the adult world.

I’d recently moved from Hawaii to Pennsylvania and was facing down a huge vice principle with a stubbornness that he couldn’t process except as a power struggle.

As an only child, I’d developed a fundamental belief in equality and fairness that did not blur with age or system appointed power.

Mother in Mexico
Mother in Mexico

The big man didn’t try to reason with me. He started with a false accusation, because I had to be guilty of something. He was right, but he didn’t know details. So he guessed, but I wouldn’t budge. So he stated a punishment, but I wouldn’t accept it. So he upped the ante and doomed his approach by calling in my mother.

She possessed a bear of a personality he couldn’t match with size or wit, and she made him apologize to me.


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