Getting promoted to the next belt in jiu jitsu should feel like an accomplishment, but it also brings on Imposter Syndrome and makes me question my abilities.
Details
Every week at Jiu-Jitsu, I learn something new.
But one thing stays the same: details determine success.
Going for a choke or an armbar and not getting it is frustrating. What's more frustrating is realizing you were about a centimeter from finishing the move and getting the tap.
During a break in the action, the professor or coach comes over and tells you why you weren't successful.
99% of the time, it's a tiny detail.
Reaching a little deeper into the collar of the gi to get the choke. Sliding your hips to one side to get the right leverage. Keeping your hips low so you don't get rolled.
When it's explained, it's not only a small thing, it's completely obvious.
Every week I feel stupid for what I didn't see.
At the same time, I'm encouraged. The details are small and obvious, but also simple. Knowing the difference between success and failure is a small detail means it's possible to get better at this Jiu Jitsu thing.
It's possible to learn the small details each week. It's possible to keep showing up and work on being successful at the small things so I'm successful at the whole thing.
Consistently doing the small things. Consistently executing the details.
It's easy to lose focus and to try to do big things. It's easy to get distracted by new things, popular things. Something shiny syndrome (SSS).
When you go for the SSS, you forget the details.
Of course, it takes years to get good at the details. It takes time to build the habits that help you execute on the details.
First, you have to learn what the details are. In Jiu-Jitsu, it means trying and failing and having someone show you what they are. You can watch a million videos about Jiu-Jitsu or read about the moves, but unless you get on the mat and experience the feeling, you can't know how far you'll need to reach on that underhook or how much force you're going to need to apply to that cross collar choke in order to get the other person to tap. You also need to be the one who is getting choked to understand what it feels like.
In life, you don't get a dedicated hour two or three times a week to try out the moves. The world is the mat and you have to get on it every day and figure out the small details that are going to make you successful.
But, tapping out in life can impact your life more than tapping out in class.
Or can it? Is it more impactful? What does tapping out in real life look like?
In class, it's just an acknowledgment your partner got you into an uncomfortable and potentially harmful position. It gives you a chance to say, "You got me. Let's start again." Most coaches will tell you to tap early and often when you get started in Jiu-Jitsu. Every one gets tapped out. There's no shame in it.
So in life, is there a parallel? Do we have chances in life to tap out and say, "You got me. Let's start again." This sounds like accountability and humility. It sounds like admitting your mistakes. It sounds like learning from life.
People who are willing to tap quickly get more reps. There’s no sense in struggling when you get in a bad position.
When you get in a bad position, just say, "I'm tapping out."
Are there times when you can't do this? I would think people might say you can't tap out when you’re fighting for survival. When it’s life and death and there isn't another chance if you fail.
How often does that happen every day to any of us?
Usually, we are stubborn about something at work or at home. It's a difference of opinion or a problem that doesn't threaten our survival.
How many people get into these bad positions and feel like they can't tap because it will hurt their pride. They don't want to walk away with a bruised ego. They want to do whatever it takes to come out of it looking good or at least not looking bad,
What if they just tapped? What if they said, "You got me." How much less drama would there be in their lives?
These are simple details.
Jiu-Jitsu isn't the only place to learn this lesson.
But for me, it's where I am exercising this thought.
It's where I am making this idea a part of who I am.
Show Up
How's Jiu-Jitsu going?
Still humbling.
It's been about two months since I started training, and I still feel awkward as I’m working on the movements. I feel like I'm getting a little more confident, but I'm still hesitant. When I’m not sure of myself, I hesitate. I don't pull the choke as tight as I need to. I don't reach far enough on the under hook.
I don't go after it.
While I'm trying to get more confident, I'm also telling myself to slow down.
On the other hand, it seems like Jiu-Jitsu is suited for that issue.
There's no hurry. Focus on the movement. Get used to it. Get the feeling. Think about what your hands and feet, arms and legs are doing. Get comfortable with how it feels.
It shouldn't be too much effort, it should be slow and consistent.
I didn't start doing this to chase belts and stripes. I didn't do this to start competing.
I did this to be a beginner, to show up, and to do a new thing over a period of time to see if I could get better at something completely outside of any realm of experience I've had.
It's to hang with a group of people I would never talk to in real life.
I've noticed something: it's becoming a habit. It's becoming part of the routine.
When I started out, I told myself, "Just go to the next class." After that, I said, "Just go for one week." Then I said, "Just go for one month."
Now, I don't have to convince myself.
I expect I'll go to class three times each week.
The expectation is important because it means training Jiu-Jitsu is becoming part of who I am.
When I started going to a gym and working out 12 years ago, it wasn't natural. It wasn't something I used to do. It wasn't part of who I was. I wasn't a gym person. I had never been a gym person.
But I kept showing up. Over time, I became better at lifting weights and working out.
Now, if you ask me what I do in my free time, I say, "I work out."
It's a part of my identity.
Today, I don't tell people that I train Jiu-Jitsu. I'll talk about it if other people bring it up, but I'm not walking around talking about it with people who don't roll.
I may never talk to people about it. Of course, here I am writing about it, but that's not because I want the world to know. I'm writing and sharing because I've done other things in my life where I look back and wish I would've chronicled the journey.
Someday, I'll feel confident enough to say, "I train Jiu-Jitsu."
Until then, I'll just keep showing up.
Slow Down
When I started training Jiu Jitsu, a little over a month ago, everything felt awkward.
Each movement felt counter-intuitive.
When my body wanted to go left, I was supposed to go right. I was supposed to push when I wanted to pull. It was a strange sensation, but I embraced it out of total ignorance.
With a few weeks of experience, the feeling of total ignorance has been replaced by a feeling of mostly ignorant.
The problem is I’ve created a small space in my ignorance vacuum that has been filled with something dangerous: the tiniest bit of confidence.
The problem with a tiny bit of confidence is you overestimate your abilities.
Total confidence comes when you know exactly what you’re capable of and what you’re not.
But a tiny bit of confidence makes you think "I've got this."
In Jiu Jitsu, that tiny bit of confidence makes me think, "I need to go faster."
Instead of training with the intent of perfecting the move or really understanding the leverage, I try to move faster.
I try to train harder.
When I train harder, I am less precise.
I get tired.
When I get tired, I get sloppy.
At the end of class, I feel like I’ve worked hard, but I’m not sure I’ve gotten any better.
Especially at my age, I need to focus on preserving my energy and using the moves in the most efficient way possible.
I need to go back to my total ignorance, get rid of that tiny bit of confidence, and SLOW DOWN.
Stripe
I got my first stripe last week.
When you have been going to class for long enough, you get a stripe on your belt. It designates experience.
When we line up in class, we line up in belt order: black, brown, purple, blue, white. Within each belt color, there are stripes to distinguish one person from another in the same belt color.
Other than ordering us, the stripes don't mean much in terms of jiu jitsu ability. They tell everyone how long you’ve been showing up for class. There isn't a test to get the next stripe.
They are a certificate of participation.
As I have said before, I am not chasing colors and stripes in jiu jitsu. It's not about telling people my level of experience. I'm not judging myself against other people's abilities.
But I was proud of the first stripe.
Proud because it says I have been showing up.
When I started going to class, my biggest fear was I would go a few times and then get busy doing other things. I would go off and on but not consistently enough to get better.
I've know from my past experiences, consistency is the key to getting better at everything.
Consistently going to Toastmasters makes me better at public speaking.
Consistently going to the gym makes me stronger.
Consistently showing up to work, not just physically but mentally, makes a difference in your career over time.
Consistently connecting with people grows your network and creates opportunities.
It strikes me that what we consistently do is what we prioritize in our lives.
The famous Aristotle quote is: "We are what we consistently do." He goes on to talk about excellence being a habit, but let's just stop at, "We are what we consistently do."
We aren't just what we do, but we are what we “consistently” do. I wish I knew Greek so I could find out what the actual Greek word was and how it translates to the word "consistently."
What we are.
I think a better way to say that is “what we value.”
What we prioritize.
We consistently do what we prioritize. Do you consistently show up for dinner with your family? You can say that family is your priority, but do you consistently show up for dinner?
You can say that fitness is a priority, but do you consistently show up to the gym?
You can say that learning is a priority, but do you consistently read, write, or show up for the class you signed up for?
If you don't, it's OK. You’re not a bad person. You haven't failed. In fact, you've succeeded in defining your priorities.
Whether you like your priorities or not is for you to decide.
Is it hard to be consistent?
Yes. It’s very hard, especially if you’re doing something new and uncomfortable.
Which is why this one stripe actually means something to me.
It would have been easy to try a few jiu jitsu classes and then stop going.
It would have been easy to be inconsistent. It's uncomfortable when you start jiu jitsu. You feel awkward. You don't know anything. It's humbling.
There is nothing about it that is comfortable.
But that's why I go.
Part of what I want to work on in my life is getting comfortable being uncomfortable.
Being uncomfortable is where you get real feedback both good and bad.
Being uncomfortable is where you learn and where you grow.
And getting one stripe shows I was able to be uncomfortable enough times to start to learn and grow.
I still know next to nothing about jiu jitsu itself.
But I do know I can show up consistently.
I do know I can get comfortable being uncomfortable.
I do know this thing is a priority for me.
I know all this because of one little stripe on my white belt.
Poser
That's how I feel when I walk into a ski shop, guitar store, or any other store where the people working there are really good at the sport or hobby they are selling.
Even though I can ski and play the guitar, I feel like the people in the store are looking at me and thinking: Poser.
Poser, as in someone who is a beginner and not very good, but is trying to get better.
It could be me.
It could be my own feelings of being inadequate.
It could be a lack of confidence.
I'm naturally introverted so I don't approach new people with an air of knowing what I am doing.
I usually surprise people.
But I feel like a poser when I’m in a place where I need to ask the experts a question that is probably the most basic one they have heard all day.
Except at Jiu-Jitsu class.
I am at square one. I know nothing. Every class feels like total ignorance. I can't even pronounce most of moves. Mostly because they are in Portuguese, but still.
I’m always rolling with a higher belt because, at this point, everyone is a higher belt.
At the same time, no one makes me feel like a poser.
No one laughs or smirks or gives me an eye roll if I’m trying to figure it out.
I think it's because everyone remembers when they were starting out.
Everyone knows they were once the lowest belt in the class. No one has forgotten what it was like to be totally ignorant.
And everyone is still learning.
It's a long road to master an art like Jiu-Jitsu and most people never master it.
But that's what makes it interesting.
That's what makes it fun.
That's what makes you want to keep coming back.
Why Jiu-Jitsu
I guess the better question is why NOT Jiu-Jitsu?
Sometimes the universe is speaking to us, and we simply have to pay attention.
That last line is woo woo and kind of bullshit.
As humans, we all have cognitive biases to help us process the thousands of inputs our brain gets every day. One of those is availability bias, which is the use of information that is most available to us at any given time. This is usually the information we have received most recently.
Here's an example: Have you ever bought a new car?
Did you notice that immediately after you started driving it there was a lot of the same make and model on the road?
The person who sold you the car didn't start making a lot of sales the same week you bought your car.
The same make and model you bought was always on the road, but before you bought your car, you weren't thinking about it.
Once you started driving your new car, your brain had the information about your car front and center in your attention. Each time you saw a car similar to yours, your brain zeroed in on a similar car because the information about it was front and center.
That's what happened to me with Jiu-Jitsu.
A few years ago, I can't remember when, I listed to an episode of the Tim Ferriss show with Jocko Willink. Shortly after that, I started listening to the Jocko podcast. If you are unfamiliar with the show, Jocko is a retired Navy Seal who owns a Jiu-Jitsu gym in CA. Listeners to the show regularly hear him talk about Jiu-Jitsu. As I listened, I got curious about it.
At the same time, in my Toastmasters club, I met a guy named Willy. Willy is a Jiu-Jitsu black belt and spoke about it during some of his speeches.
It seemed like everyone was doing Jiu-Jitsu or at least two different people I knew. My brain was primed to see Jiu-Jitsu everywhere.
Because I was primed, I asked Willy if he would show me what Jiu-Jitsu was like. We got together in the gym at his apartment and he gave me an hour or two of instruction. Of course, this was just an intro.
At the same time, I came away with the following impressions:
It’s possible to train Jiu-Jitsu and learn useful moves without spending years punching the air. This is my impression of karate and the other striking martial arts. Whether that's true or not, I don't know, but that's how I felt at the time.
There is a low barrier to entry. Find a class, sign up, try it out. If you like it, keep going. If you hate it, don't go.
I would be a total beginner at this and start from absolute zero.
The influences all around me and the ease of starting were what drew me to it.
At the same time, there are a few things about Jiu-Jitsu which were not my motivation:
I do not want to be an MMA fighter. I have no desire to get in the ring. That's a young man's game and I am not a young man.
Getting in shape. So far, I've found class is a good workout, but that wasn't the reason for joining. I'm already in shape. In 2019, I ran a marathon and a half marathon. I go to the gym 4-5 days per week. I mainly lift heavy weights: bench, squats, deadlifts.
Self-defense. I've made it through 45 years of life without needing it. I generally stay out of places where I may need to defend myself - bars and places with lots of people. My job doesn't require me to interact with people who may try to harm me. I'm not a cop or any other profession where I am in harm's way.
Chasing belts and stripes. I don't need to impress people by telling them the color of my belt. In most cases, I don't even tell people I train Jiu-Jitsu (well, except on my website).
That's how I got started.
It's a longer story than that, but I'll save the rest for another day.
The Start of My Jiu Jitsu Journey
Humbling.
That's the word I use to describe my first few jiu jitsu classes.
Other words may include awkward, uncomfortable, counter intuitive.
I knew this would happen. I had heard this was something that would make me feel like a complete beginner.
That's the reason I signed up.
When you get to a point in your life, you no longer start anything from absolute zero. You’ve learned what you’re good at. You tend to stick to those things, and there are enough of them to keep your mind occupied. You avoid things you know nothing about because what's the point of starting something new at this age. It's too late, right?
That’s the fixed mindset.
As I've gotten older, I've challenged myself to have a growth mindset. I look for new things to learn and for new things to keep my mind and body active. But most of those new experiences build on skills I already have.
Jiu Jitsu does not.
If you aren't familiar with it, it’s the Brazilian martial art commonly associated with UFC and MMA. I have no desire to get into the octogon. I may not ever compete in the sport. I'm not doing this because I live in a time or place where I need to physically defend myself.
I'm doing it to experience the feeling of being a total beginner.
There’s something liberating about having zero expectations. It frees you to learn the basics. It allows you to screw up every time you get on the mat and still feel good about the experience.
In my job and in my life, mistakes usually make me feel terrible. I'm an acts of service love language person and not meeting expectations is crushing for me. I dwell on it. I brood and fume about it.
But in every jiu jitsu class, I make mistakes.
Every time.
Every new move feels weird. I grab the left hand when I am supposed to grab the right. I turn one way when I am supposed to go the other way.
And no one has ever made me feel bad for screwing up.
In my class, the lowest belt, which is also the newest member of the class, is paired with a higher belt, or someone more experienced. I’m usually the lowest belt. Sometimes I get paired with a blue belt, but I have been paired with purple and brown belts. I feel bad when they have to roll with me (that's what it's called when you are matched up with someone).
But they practice the moves on me, and I try my best to practice on them. They always have tips and advice for me.
Over and over I try to get the move right, and I usually mess something up. Even when I feel like I did the move correctly, I know there is no way it would be easy for me to do the move in a real match.
Despite my absolute novice ability, I enjoy the feeling of walking away having learned something new. My body of knowledge is so limited that each class feels like a huge leap.
It won't always be that way.
I know over time the feeling of zero expectations will diminish, and I’ll start to put pressure on myself to perform better. That's OK because I get the impression that no matter how long I train jiu jitsu, there will always be someone who can humble me.
And that's the reason to keep going.