A Reflection of My Taekwondo Journey from the Perspective of a Brown Belt

by Sienna Lee

Taekwondo.  It’s not merely a hobby or a pastime, nor is it simply a sport.  Taekwondo is an art form: a way of life.  Over the course of my martial arts education, I’ve learned that fact.

              Everyone remembers what it was like in your first white belt class.  The “purest belt”, you were most likely intimidated by the other belts, staying quiet, doing as you’re told, and trying to absorb all of the wisdom and knowledge that you could in one enlightening

session.  However, one thing hasn’t changed since that first day in the dojang: you’ve never stopped learning.  By no means will you ever get to a point in your Taekwondo life where you sit back and say, ‘Ok. I’ve learned everything that there is to know about Taekwondo’.  No matter what dan you are, what belt…you will continue to learn.  Taekwondo is an

infinite teacher, and we are its eternal disciples.  But do not let this discourage you, for even great masters are always perfecting a simple, yet at the same time, complex, middle punch.  This is what is so incredible about Taekwondo, it is a learning experience that can be a lifetime journey.   

              I never thought I would get to where I am today. On my first day as a Taekwondo student, I watched all the other pupils in awe, stunned by how coordinated and precise the dance-like moves were carried out.  I saw the other belts and thought, how will I ever get there? Will I be able to do it? Now, I see, that anything is possible when you have the right teachers, and the masters at Chosun Taekwondo Academy provide me with all the information and wisdom I need to become the best I can be.

         I remember when I was first being taught the basics of Taekwondo, one of the rudimentary things that you learn as a Taekwondo disciple is how to Kihap. When I was being instructed, the master very kindly told me to yell when I carry out a movement. “That’s called a Kihap. Eventually, you’ll get your own sound when you Kihap, but for now, it’s a yell to express strength.” When the master said that, I was thinking, “Wow. I’m going to get my own sound in Taekwondo”. For quite some time I thought  that one day I would Kihap in Taekwondo and a different new sound would come out. I now know that that was not what the master meant. What she meant, was not that I would one day sound different, but that one day I would achieve the confidence to yell as loudly and hard as I could, demonstrating my assertiveness in the art of Taekwondo. This progressive assurance in the craft makes it special.

              No matter who you are, how old you are, or where you are, Taekwondo is always there for you.  It is a universal art.  From the moment you remove your shoes to the time you put them back on; once you step into the dojang, you know you’re at home.  But do not be fooled, Taekwondo is not for everyone.  It takes courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control, and indomitable spirit, as stated in the Five Tenants of Taekwondo.  Let’s break these down, shall we?

Courtesy.  In other words, politeness.  Taekwondo is all about pride, and that comes with being polite and having respect towards others.  Remember, you represent your Taekwondo academy everywhere you go, so you want to be the best you can be, always.

Integrity. Having strong moral values and beliefs is important to be a good student at any Taekwondo academy.

Perseverance.  Rising through the ranks in Taekwondo doesn’t happen overnight.  It takes perseverance to stick with the art and not give up.

Self-control.  Taekwondo isn’t an excuse to go pick a fight with someone.  It shouldn’t be used to provoke an attack against anyone, self-control helps diffuse situations. 

Indomitable Spirit.  Tying in with perseverance, one must be brave, confident, and never give up.

              One of the best things about belonging to an academy or dojang, is that you’re never alone.  You will always have a family, you will always have someone there for you. To encourage, push, and test you to perform to the very best of your ability.  To see the other students train is an inspiration to me to train harder.  Whether I look to a white belt to observe how far I’ve come, or to a black belt to contemplate what I have to look forward to and work for, every student, Master, and Grandmaster inspires me.  This is what it’s like in the Taekwondo family, there is always someone to support you.

              When test day comes, a mixture of emotions punctures the air and creates a unique aura cloud floating above the heads of all the eager students. Anxious, nervous, excited, proud; adrenaline helps balance the uneven scale of feelings overtaking our already busy heads. When it finally comes to carry out our poomsae, perform our break…we’re ready. We know by heart what is expected of us, and this is evident by how we perform. There is no better feeling in the martial art of Taekwondo than knowing that you did your best and are rewarded with the esteemed promotion from belt to belt, dan to dan.                                                                                                        

         Looking back, I see that although I have learned a lot from the experienced masters at Chosun Taekwondo Academy, I still have much to learn. As long as I continue in Taekwondo, I will never stop learning. Each class brings new lessons on how to correctly carry out the art, acquiring new knowledge

         As a Brown Belt,  I look forward to being taught new techniques in Taekwondo. I hope to continue Taekwondo as long as possible, because I not only learn defensive techniques, but I also learn life skills that will help make me a successful person in the future.

         I’ve progressed a lot from that timid White Belt way back last November. 

A Retrospective of my Taekwondo Training so far

 Bodan Essay by Bryce Parkinson  October, 2015                                                            

   I’ve heard it said that life is not made of up of weeks, or months or even years, but of moments. In looking back on my time as a color belt at Chosun, I know this in my heart to be true, for it is most definitely made up of many special and memorable moments.

   Recently, during a Tuesday evening all belts class, not long after the belt test while on line for ill Suk Si I took a minute and looked around the dojang. As a bodan , I already knew what my belt level requirements were while the rest of my classmates were just learning

Pond at the entrance to Bulguksa Temple

theirs. The room was busy with activity. Students of all ages and ranks were with instructors learning new forms and one step sparring. The energy in the room was electric with the collective desire to learn Taekwondo and the eagerness of students with new techniques to work on. In that moment, the dojang was alive with the spirit of Taekwondo, strong  and vibrant , and I was a part of it. I know that that energy will stay with me forever, inspiring me to always meet new challenges with enthusiasm  .

   Throughout   my training in the past two and a half years, there have been so many of those memorable moments. And with each one Taekwondo has revealed to me new things about myself that sometimes I didn’t even know I had within me. At my first test for yellow belt, I was so sick I should not have been on the floor. I couldn’t even do my stepping basics right. It took me a long time after the test to trust that even with my mistakes, I had earned that yellow belt, and I needed to take credit for my achievement. Recognizing my achievements is a lesson I’m always learning and has remained one of the hardest issues for me throughout my training.

At my test for orange belt I was awarded the honor of student of the month and had to read my essay in front of the whole school. That day I learned that I am not afraid to speak in front of large groups. As an orange belt, it took me weeks to learn how to do a double knife hand block. I was increasingly confused and frustrated with every class. It seemed I would never learn it, no matter how hard I tried. Then one day, after weeks of practice, it  clicked. I was finally able to do it. The sense of accomplishment I felt was incredible and I learned that I indeed had perseverance.

   I was a green belt for six months, due to health issues. It taught me that patience is a vital part of my training. It was almost torture watching my family leave to train while I had to stay home and recover. Stepping back on the dojang floor was an incredibly rewarding experience. I felt like I had come home to where I needed to be. I remember actually crying when Master Ehrenreich handed me my blue belt. I absolutely loved being a blue belt. My training truly seemed to be taking shape, the sense of constant confusion I had was dissipating and I could see progress within my techniques. It was during that time that my family and I decided to join the Chosun training tour to South Korea.

   My husband Brian and I tested for our purple belts in May 2014.   In July 2014 along with our two sons who were  bodans at the time, and around thirty other students of all ranks and ages, we boarded a plane at JFK to South Korea. Now those “other students” are affectionately known as “Korea Family”. I had never been out of the country before. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to go to South Korea. From the moment we committed to going,  it became one of the most memorable experiences of my life. I was challenged and rewarded in ways I could never have predicted. Recently I was telling a friend about one such challenge. I was walking  at the bottom of the mountain trail at Seokguram Grotto and all of a sudden I began to feel extremely ill. I was dizzy and felt incredibly sick. Later on I would come to find out I had Vertigo.  I had to send my son Dylan  to get my husband who had walked on ahead of us. At that point my friend interrupted me, asking me if I had my husband take me back to the hotel or at least back to sit on the bus. I was puzzled, and told them that no, with my husband and a friend’s help, I went up the mountain and saw the Buddha and came back down with the group. I might have been last going up and coming down, but I did it. I realized that it never occurred to me to not go up the mountain. Korea showed me without a doubt that I have indomitable spirit. And that was only one part of one afternoon there.

A month or so after returning home, I became a red belt. It was then that a member of my “Korea Family” asked me a very important question. One that has stayed with me almost every day since he asked it. How had my time in Korea changed me ? Every time I ask myself that question , I come up with a new answer. From a better cultural and historical understanding of the land that Taekwondo originates from, to a better understanding of myself, and why I train, the answer is continually unfolding to me, even a year later.

By brown belt I had been volunteering on the Leadership Team for a few months, and found that I truly loved working with the children. I knew then that I wanted to become an assistant instructor, and that I wanted to specifically work with our youth population. That is another new thing Taekwondo has taught me about myself. I love working with children. Soon my belt went from brown to high brown and that first appearance of black in a belt came in. I became even more focused on training, knowing that soon I would become a black belt candidate.

   When I finally became a bodan, everything about the belt was different than my previous belt ranks. While my classmates were learning new techniques, I was perfecting ones that I had learned over the past two and a half years. I also had more time to reflect on those special moments that made up my training   so far. Like learning to fall with the Garretts or working with Master Ehrenreich for twenty minutes to get the first step of Plagwe Oh jang right. Or meeting Grandmaster Chun for the first time.

  As my time as a color belt comes to a close, I realize how much I am going to miss this important time of my training. I have been blessed with extremely knowledgeable and compassionate instructors, and a very supportive group of peers. While I know that these things will not  change once I become a black belt, I also know everything will change. That this is a first milestone along a lifelong journey. A journey full of revelations of all kinds.  Training in traditional Taekwondo at Chosun has changed my life forever. It has taken me places, physically, spiritually mentally and even literally ( Korea !) that I never dreamed possible.

As Master Cook frequently says: “Upwards and onwards!” 

A Retrospective of my Taekwondo Training

 Bodan Essay by Patricia Lennon                       October 2015

It’s all about the journey

As soon as I became a Bodan, I felt that I should somehow be “different”.  I was a little nervous at first – wondering “what” exactly should be different about me.  Soon, I began to notice some changes.  A small “error” in class felt “humongous” to me!  How could I do that?  I am a Bodan!  Then, something kicked in.  Maybe it was the beginnings of an indomitable spirit.  I responded to my error, with tenacity and determination – I would not let a misstep throw me off.  Instead, I trained harder.  I was almost glad I had made a

Gyeongju Plains-Home of the Hwarang Warriors

mistake, because it gave me the opportunity to strengthen my “will”, and focus my mind.  In martial arts, we are taught that our focus needs to be in the moment, mindful and aware.  You have to move on to the next moment, the next move, maintaining the positive energy that we call Ki.  Ki is the energy that flows through us – giving us an indomitable spirit.

As I move closer toward Black Belt, it seems that three specific martial arts concepts seem to be unfolding for me.  They are the basic martial arts teachings of “mindfulness”, “Ki development” and the “indomitable spirit” that we are called to internalize during our recitation of the five tenets of taekwondo.

Reflecting on these concepts, it becomes clearer to me that this is a life long journey – a process, which does not happen overnight, and which demands that I have patience - with myself, and with the training process.

A journey requires patience, and, I believe, patience requires courage.  Therefore,  I en-courage myself!  I remind myself that I will be a black belt soon!  I accept the many responsibilities that come along with this process – two of which are to train harder than I think I can, and to show good spirit!  I know that the “good spirit” that we are encouraged to show is more than a loud kihup, or throwing hard punches, blocks and kicks.  I believe it has more to do with “taking full custody of one’s life”, which is the journey we are on.

The journey is a personal one.

I suspect the changes in the transition to Black Belt will be subtle, gentle stirrings - 

felt subjectively, before becoming externally apparent.  We train for ourselves, first and foremost.  Not for outward appearance or appreciation.  The journey is a personal one.  Although we train together – and we do form bonds – we have a common purpose, and that is reason enough for such bonds to form.  We encourage each other, sincerely and enthusiastically, passionately and compassionately – always reveling in one another’s progress. 

We are truly “team mates” and “school mates”, yet always on our individual journeys.  Like a family, its members bound by many things - yet always and forever - walking their own paths, learning their own lessons, in their own ways – struggling, facing road blocks, overcoming them, mentally, physically and spiritually – challenged, and strengthened by the challenge.

Each small hurdle overcome adds another small muscle to one’s memory – until it becomes unforgettable – forever a part of us.

We are people on a very similar journey - kindred souls, lovers of an art – one in which the artist moves into - and flows with - at their own pace – an art that moves the body.  I am sure dancers and yoga practitioners must reap similar rewards.  Martial Arts, Yoga, Dance – they are all artistry in motion!

Taekwondo is an art form that puts you in touch with your strength – your inner ki strength – and your outward physical strength.

My authentic spirit yell

I think that finding your own kihup, your personal, authentic spirit yell, is part of this path we are on.

When we visited Chosun Rockland to participate in their women’s self defense class, we encouraged the women to “kihup” when they hit the target.  I noticed that some of the women were noticeably quite uncomfortable with yelling out the word kihup.  I understand that this, in part, could be because they’ve never done it before.  They may never have spoken the word “kihup”, no less yelled it, loudly, in front of a group of strangers. 

I remember the first time I let out a loud kihup.  Up until that day, I had probably whispered my kihups.  As white belts, we were taught that we needed to kihup in order to get more power into our moves, and in addition to this, it “showed good spirit”.  And our training had much to do with “spirit”.  After all, an indomitable spirit is one of the 5 tenets of Taekwondo.   So I would try to kihup, but I really didn’t know how.   I loved the translation of the word – “spirit yell”.  I really wanted my spirit to yell.  And I noticed that some people had louder spirit yells than others.  I had a feeling that it didn’t matter so much how loud my kihup would be.  But I still had some apprehension about it.  On this particular day, I did actually kihup quite loudly.  I remember that I was quite surprised about what had just come out of my mouth.  Just then, one of the black belts that I had been training with regularly, Master Sammy Testa, gave me a “thumbs up”, and ‘a look’ that said something like “you go girl!”.   She had witnessed my very first real kihup!  I won’t forget that day.

One Buddhist teaching says – you are already what you are seeking to become.  With this in mind, I think that the ki energy and indomitable spirit is already in me.  And that Taekwondo is a path which can lead me to this energy, this life force.

It reminds me of the art of photography.  The photographer sees something, and wants to savor it.  It’s already there… in its natural state.  The photographer snaps the photo… and goes back to the dark room … and develops the film – at first it appears that there isn’t anything on the film – but slowly – the image starts to appear – and, as if from nothing, there is it.  It was always there – the photographer just had to develop it.  And so it is with my ki.  And my indomitable spirit.  I am slowly but surely developing these aspects of myself – through my training.  Uncovering what is already there.  I look at Taekwondo as a true art form.  I realize it is a form of self defense – but for me, on a daily basis, as an integral part of my life, it is also an art form.  And in this way, it is much like music, or sculpture.  Artists have said that the music, or the statue – was already there – in its entirety – the image of it was in their mind’s eye, and they just needed to uncover it. 

And so it is with my spirit yell – not so much the actual yell that comes out of my mouth, but more, the place where the indomitable spirit within can find it’s voice, and express itself, authentically. The voice within that yells out – I have trained really hard!  I am a Martial Artist!  I am a White Belt! ... a Yellow Belt!......I am a Bodan!  I am a Black Belt.  Finding that voice is the source of my training -- developing my martial arts voice - my ki -  my indomitable spirit. 

The Warrior’s Path

Since I am practicing the Eastern tradition of Taekwondo, it follows naturally to investigate some of the philosophy at its foundation.  Zen is a basic philosophy behind the martial arts.  The Samurai warriors practiced Zen as a way of life. 

“Mushin” is the essence of Zen.  It is Mindfulness.  Mushin is a peaceful state of mind – one of pure mental clarity.  This is the way of the martial arts warrior.  It is, indeed, a peaceful way, and we are “defenders of the peace”. 

We encounter other warriors on the trail - humble warriors, who walk softly on this path – ever mindful of past travelers, and future ones.  In some, their “Ki” is almost visible.  And when you speak with others, their “spirits” practically yell out.  It is not the “kihup” sort of  “yell” that I am referring to, but a more subtle kind - an indomitable spirit, which has truly developed with much hard work, perseverance, and passion for their practiced art.

Our pilgrimage begins at the Dojang.  As with any traveler who dares to take a road less traveled, it will not be smoothed, nor tamped down by previous travelers, because there are relatively few. 

We are all homeward bound warriors – and when we meet our fellow “HoBo Warriors”, we humbly bow to one another – out of respect, and comradery, and reverence for the noble cause that we are all defending, and recognition of a similar spirit. 

We are martial artists, we continue to train, journeying from the dojang, to a place within ourselves, growing in strength, developing our martial spirits, and then, journeying back again, to the dojang, the place where we, together, strengthen our spirits. There, we gain strength and courage, and fine tune the balance - between strength and gentleness, courage and humility.

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