friendship

A perfectly imperfect reminder of our perfect imperfections

A couple of years ago, my mother gave my daughter a four-pack of friendship bracelets. My daughter gave me one of them and somehow lost the other three. They were supposed to all say, “Best Friend,” which is kind of strange if you think about it. Is it really possible to have four best friends? We are lucky to have four good friends, let alone best friends. But that’s not really the point. 

Anyway, all four bracelets were supposed to say, “Best Friend,” but I noticed that the one my daughter gave me actually said, “Bsst Friend.” It took me a while to notice it, but when I did, I asked her about it and whether it had special meaning. My assumption was that it was meant to be that way. 

She told me that it was supposed to say, “Best Friend” and that “Bsst Friend” was a mistake. I told her that I loved it anyway and, in fact, I liked it even more because it was unique. “I bet no one else has a Bsst Friend bracelet from their daughter,” I said. Her response took me completely by surprise. 

She said, “I guess your bracelet is just like us.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked. 

“Well, it’s imperfect, but it’s still beautiful, just like we are still beautiful even though we are imperfect” she replied. “Nothing is really perfect anyway. So your bracelet is kind of like a reminder of that. Right, daddy?” 

“Yes, dear,” I responded. “No one and nothing is perfect except for God and, even though we do the best we can, we will always fall short. But that’s okay because we are still beautiful and God loves us even in our imperfectness. Thank you for the bracelet, my dear. I’ll wear my Bsst Friend bracelet proudly to remind me of you and how much I love you.” 

“I love you, daddy,” she said with a big smile and gave me a hug. 

I still wear my Bsst Friend bracelet quite often. I sometimes get funny looks because it’s a rainbow bracelet and I am a pretty big, rather imposing looking guy with a bald head, a beard, and signs of cauliflower ear from years of jiu-jitsu, even though I’m actually just a big, gentle panda. I think a lot of people assume it has some hidden meaning, and I suppose it does. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Our primary purpose

On Tuesday, September 11, 2001, I was working at a bank as a floating teller. As a floating teller, I traveled from branch to branch to fill in as needed. On this particular day, I was working in one of the Annapolis branches and I had a doctor’s appointment scheduled at lunchtime, so I was going to be leaving work early. 

As we set up the branch, getting all of our cash drawers ready for when the doors opened to the public, we saw the news that a plane had just crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. We were all shocked and not quite sure what to do, but it was time to open. Then, just after we opened the doors, the news came in that another plane hit the World Trade Center and we all sensed that the world as we knew it had just changed forever. 

There was a haunting sense of concern and confusion throughout the branch as we did our best to do our jobs as usual, but as the towers collapsed, we all just wanted to go home. I tried to call the doctor’s office to confirm my appointment, but no one answered the phones. I soon realized that, whether the doctor’s office was open or not, I still had an appointment, I still wanted to go home, and this was my chance to do so. So, when it was time for me to go to the doctor, I left work as planned and went home instead. 

At home were my two roommates, both older than me but also very good friends of mine. In fact, we are still friends to this day and stay in touch often. We briefly discussed what had happened and kept our eyes on the news. As the day went on and the initial shock wore off, the realness of it all started to sink in. 

That evening, like every other Tuesday night at that time in my life, we had a meeting to attend in a church basement. Every week a bunch of us gathered together to discuss our lives, our relationship with God, and the spiritual experiences we had each had, through which we shared a common bond. We met regularly, and still do in a different forum, so that others who may be interested in what we have to offer may find us and a way to change their lives. 

As was our custom, we gathered, had some coffee or tea, talked for an hour, said a prayer, and then began to part ways. Before we left, however, one of the members of our group pointed out that no one, not a single person, had spoken of or even alluded to the events of that morning in our meeting. In spite of the severity and gravity of the event, it simply never came up, and the reason it never came up was because that was not what we were there for. 

We knew our purpose for being together, which was to carry the message of the profound change that had taken place in our lives after we gave our lives to God, cleaned up our pasts, and then shared this good news freely with others. We were not there to talk about current events, no matter how tragic. For that hour, the only thing that mattered was that we share with each other and whoever else wanted to listen, what our lives were like, the spiritual transformation we had experienced, the process through which we experienced that transformation, and what our lives were like as the result of that transformation, and, as this gentleman pointed out, we stuck to that primary purpose, even on what is now infamously known as 9/11. 

I think about this experience and the lesson it offers quite often. If I know my purpose in life or in specific relationships or situations, and I stick to that purpose, I am much less likely to get caught up in all of the other things going on in life that either don’t concern me or that I cannot do anything about. This is not the same as apathy, however. I care a lot about a lot of things. Rather, it is about purpose and effectiveness. 

If, on that day, we had allowed the events of 9/11 to seep into our gathering, we would not have been able to do the work we were there to do. It would have made us less effective. And, the work we were there to do was and is extremely important. It literally changed my life and the lives of many others. By talking about the events of 9/11, we would not have been talking about God and spiritual transformation, and that would have been a shame. 

I have found that this principle carries over quite well into other aspects of my life. For example, when I am with my family, if I focus on my family and not on current events or politics, I am much more useful to them and we enjoy our time together more fully. When I’m at work and my attention is on the work itself and on my relationships with my coworkers, as opposed to gossip or personal opinions for example, I not only get more work done, but it is also much more satisfying and fulfilling to be at work in general. Likewise, when I’m at jiu-jitsu, my primary purpose is to teach or practice jiu-jitsu, and when I’m at church my primary purpose is to worship and praise God. 

In every aspect of my life, if I can define my purpose for being there and give my attention to that purpose without being distracted by extraneous issues that I have no control or influence over, my life is better and I am able to serve others more effectively. Of course, there is a time and place for current events, politics, etc. and for having an opinion on these things. There are even people whose purpose and profession it is to do so. However, I find that when I adhere to my life’s primary purpose, which is to love and serve God and to love and serve my fellows, I don’t actually have much time or desire to get caught up in those things or to drag them into places they don’t belong. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

If you aren’t having fun you’re doing it wrong

If you aren’t having fun, you’re doing it wrong. From self defense to sport, there are many different reasons to practice jiu-jitsu. Training can and should be very serious at times.

Violence and power are serious subjects after all, and the martial arts are, at the end of the day, the study of violence and power. But it’s not all serious.

Through the practice, we develop a camaraderie and light-heartedness in spite of all of the pain, suffering, and difficulty we put ourselves through in the pursuit of whatever intangible goal we may have.

Through the losses, the frustration, and the injuries, we make friends we otherwise would not have made. With these friends, we joke, we laugh, and we find reprieve from the outside world, even if only for an hour or so a day.

Most of us are not practicing jiu-jitsu for life and death, after all. We practice because we enjoy it.

We practice because it makes our lives better. We practice because it’s fun.

The way I (mis)remember it

Our memories are not that great, especially under stress. A couple of years ago I competed in a Brazilian jiu-jitsu tournament. My first match was in the nogi absolute division (all ranks and all weight classes) against a big guy who I just watched beat his first opponent.

We stepped on the mats, shook hands, and started to grapple. I was there to win and he was too. As soon as we came to grips, I knew he was stronger than me, but I was determined to not back down. We both fought on the feet for hand position and, after a minute or so, I secured the underhook I was looking for, tried to use it to pull him into my half guard, but I slipped off and fell on my back.

He started to try to pass, but I established my guard. We battled it out there for a little while, and then he started to attack my legs. I did a good job defending for a bit, but as I turned out to escape, he caught me in a heel hook and I was forced to tap.

But he didn’t stop. He kept cranking until I tapped again. The match was over and I was injured. My knee and ankle were sore. I took a few more matches before deciding to go home. That’s how I remember it and that’s the way I have told the story since then.

Life is funny though. He and I have since become friends. I have visited his academy and he has visited mine. His daughter and mine play together while we train. Tonight, he came to my academy and taught a class.

We were talking to one of the new students about how we met and the match we had. I mentioned having to tap twice and he politely objected, stating that he may have been overly enthusiastic with the submission, but that I only tapped once and he let go of the submission immediately after I did.

We went back and forth for a bit before finally pulling up the match on my phone. We watched the whole thing and, at the end, when we got to the part where he applied the heel hook, there it was, as plain as day, I tapped the floor and then tapped him, and he let go.

I was wrong. I have been wrong for two years. But, up until that moment, I was certain that things happened the way I remembered. I could picture it in my mind. It’s the story I told multiple times to multiple people about how we met, but I misremembered the most important part, the part I thought I remembered most clearly. He pointed it out, I apologized, and then he helped me clean the academy before we both took our daughters home.

Life is funny and our memories are often based more on stories we tell ourselves about what we experienced than they are about the actual facts of the experience. So be generous with the stories you tell. You’ll be happier and you’ll make more friends along the way.