Kajukenbo

I just finished ordering the smallest size gi (martial arts uniform) known to man for Koa.  Mr A has been regularly training them on Thursday nights while I attend parent meetings at the school and we both feel that its time to make this activity official.
There are few things that make me so proud as to watch my husband intentionally pass on the knowledge that was given to him.  Perhaps this is the most joyful and narcissistic part of parenting, where we can ensure that we live on through our children by teaching them what we know.  What is our family, after all, if it can not be defined by certain trades and skills.
Martial arts is the greatest gift, the most important life skill, that was given to my husband by his father.  It has shaped the man he is today and he becomes a better person as he continues to grow through this discipline.  Kajukenbo is a way of life.  It is a responsibility of vital importance that Mr A is able to pass this onto his children.
Of course, this requires a certain level of self-discipline from me.  Kajukenbo - especially the hard-style that is the tradition of his family - requires growth through pain and learning to push past a certain level of discomfort in order to develop personal boundaries.  This may require stern looks, austerity and physical hardships.  It can be fun, but its not all fun.  There are no trophies, no team dinners, no competitions - but I believe it is worthwhile. 
Mr A knows how hard to push the boys and he knows how to love them even when he is not being loving.  We both want the same thing: to have the assurance that our children know how to protect themselves.  That they are able to recognize and listen to their instincts.  That they are strong in their spirit, mind and body.  Martial arts is a vehicle for all these skills and more. 
I'm just thankful that I'm not home to watch it because my "mommy rescue reflex" would go into overdrive at the first sound of tears!  They will get more out of it if I'm not there and it becomes something that they share with him, which is the way it should be.

I just hope that Mr A reciprocates my attitude when it comes time for piano lessons!

Relativity vs Sounding like an Idiot

I drank a Red Bull at 5pm, which in retrospect was a terrible decision.  I've now been sitting up for the past 40 minutes and skimming through the first 6 months of this blog.  Also a not-so-well thought out plan.

If I can't be perfect, then I wish to be a hermit, never having to interact with others.  That way I won't need to fuss over relationships and I can just think and create and be without interference or the resulting insecurities of dealing with the outside world.  My mother thinks this is why I gravitate toward writing. 

A commencement speaker at my alma mater once said

 "Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don't learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us."

And I think this speaks to me somehow, especially when I begin to feel insecure about taking a stand on things that later turn out to seem ridiculous, even to myself.  As I grow older and my desire/capability to peace-keep and pacify increases, I not only abandon my own opinions, I devalue them.  But seeing everything as relative is sort of a cop-out, right?

I've set up camp on sides of arguments that have later seemed immature, ignorant or just plain wrong.  But I cared about something.  I mean, I cared about it enough to express a concrete thought and a definitive opinion.  And that is a good thing, to care enough that it is worth formulating some sort of conclusion.  To think about what is happening around me.  Even if I am wrong, its good practice and it creates space for a productive dialogue (possibly influencing someone else to formulate a better articulated stance).  And, if I acknowledge that the process is flawed, I have the ability to be objective to whatever degree and see my own opinions as a gray area on a vast continuum of morality.
 
It would be too much to hope that I will always (ever) come off as intelligent, wise or even informed - but I am proud of myself that in whatever small way, I continue to be interested in what's happening around me.  I don't agree with everything I said 5 years ago, but I do think its cool that I, for whatever reason, felt compelled to express those thoughts.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have two sick children who will be needing my attention at 7am.  Time to force sleep!  

Careful Editting

The next step for my novel is editing.  I need to sit down and give it a really thorough look.  I need to be judicious, objective and downright cruel, willing to cut even my most favorite scenes for the betterment of the piece as a whole.  I must evaluate my work with a specific end goal in mind and remove whatever does not contribute to that goal, adding in new content as necessary.

See where I'm going with this?   Can you guess the metaphor coming next?

My book is my life.  It is a reflection of my life, it is the primary goal in my mind right now, and it is a little microcosm of where I am going with goal-setting in general.  I need to edit my life.  If I can do it to my writing, I can certainly sit down and evaluate how I spend my time during the day, cutting out the unnecessary.  I know that doing this will benefit my life and make it stronger, the same way this exercise will improve my book. 

Like those paragraphs that are pretty and poetic but make no sense in the scope of the story, I have a difficult time chopping fun/seemingly worthwhile activities from my workload.  Even if those activities distract me from my overall life goal. 

How do you constructively edit your work/life?

Run for the Dry Forest 2013 10K

ran up and down this "hill"

I should probably note that my friend who took second also had time to take all these scenic photographs!

 

 I like the Run for the Dry Forest at Puʻu Waʻawaʻa (Kona side).  The weather is always nice and the monies go to support preservation of native plants and animals.  Plus the awards are tiles, handmade by the organizer's wife.  So when two of my former coworkers/current friends suggested we run it this year, I was totally game!

At the very last minute, I decided to just suck it up and do the 10K with everyone else.  I was very intimidated because the elevation change is over 1,100 ft and I'm not known for fantastic cardio when it come to uphill hiking.  However, I am super happy that I did it.  The first 3 miles, which were uphill, were awful, but the last three felt crazy fast in comparison.  I paced behind my friend on the right and we made it through together.  Friend on the left took second overall (!!!) so she was obviously nowhere near us.

I took 63 out of 78 overall (so I didn't finish last - hooray!)

and 30th out of 40 women 

I didn't even finish last in my age division (8 out of 12) so, really, what more could I ask for?

My time was 1:29:56 - and you better believe that I was full-out sprinting to get across that finish line before 1:30!  Not bad for my second 10K ever.

5 Year Old Birthday Boy

Five years old now.  In his first year of kindergarten.  Favorite book is an encyclopedia about sharks.  Favorite food is chicken katsu (which we will be having for dinner).  Birthday cake request was carrot cake with cream frosting and blueberries on top.  Told me the other day that he wants to be a writer when he grows up, "but only in Hawaiian". 

How fortunate that Ikaika's birthday this year fell on a no-school Friday!  Over breakfast, we looked at his baby scrapbook and marveled at how much he has grown/still looks the same.  Then we went to the 4-D movie theater and saw "Sea Monsters", which was super cool.  Thanks Aunty Beth.

 After, we enjoyed some mochi ice cream - so delicious on this hot, hot October afternoon!  The guava flavor was...indescribable in its awesomeness.  Thanks Granny.

After, we went to the black sand beach and just enjoyed the cool, clear ocean water.  Thanks God. 

I got a resnap of a picture from 5 years ago.

Our first son.  I just love him SO much.

I Am Forbidden to Publish This

Mr A asked me to NOT publish any of the poetry he writes for me (which he does compose on occasion).  Since I am going through some of my old papers today, I thought I would put a few of my most favorite lines here - you know, for posterity.  Its not the whole poem, so I donʻt think this is really cheating.

"My heart rate doubles with the anticipation
of being in our present combination...
...The Love that I feel,
is most certainly ideal.
with an intimate courage,
of an everlasting marriage."

Isnʻt that sweet?  I mean, seriously...wouldnʻt you have said "real" instead of "ideal", too?  His craftiness blows me away sometimes!  Sure, "intimate courage" sounds wonky, but if you let that one simmer for a minute, it starts to feel darn near profound.

I should make a point to mention here that I used to write my husband poetry often, especially when we were dating.  However, I made the mistake of completely blowing his socks off with the very first one.  I set the bar too high and I have no idea what it is that he likes so much about that particular poem.  Nothing since has been met with a comparable level of enthusiasm and it kind of kills my creative drive.  I do, however, write him letters, which he enjoys.  Far less artsy-fartsy than poetry, but still a nice surprise.    

Grandma Olive's Dress

I know I'm depressed and overwhelmed lately because I've recently become obsessed with my wardrobe.  Project 333 was a draw (quit a month early, but got rid of almost 1/3 of my stuff) and I've since been scouring Ebay and thrift stores to build the perfect collection of clothing...as if such a thing even exists. 
When I start getting focused on material things, especially something as ridiculous as clothing, I know there is something lacking elsewhere in my life.  I probably have spread myself too thin and now I am in a state of anxiety/paralysis realizing that there is no way I can get it all done.  So, instead, I spend hours and hours searching Ebay for items like "maxi skirt" or "puffer vest" in particular colors or patterns, holding onto the belief that these things will not only round out my wardrobe but somehow settle the chaos in my life.  Its silly, actually.

Anyhow, I've been hunting for the perfect long dress or skirt.  The other night I remembered that I still have the dress my grandmother wore to my parents wedding.

Nevermind that I clear her by nearly a foot, check out this dress!  My first thought was to modify it/modernize it somehow since the colors are about right for my closet.  Then, I realized that would just be adding another heap of steaming "gotta do it" on what is already turning into a formidable pile of worry.  Besides, the ruffle at the bottom is gargantuan, which means there is a ton of fabric and the dress itself is quite heavy.

But this material (however polyester it may be) is totally vintage, which I dig.  The original thought was to make purses for the women in my family out...perhaps that will have to be its final destination after all.