A man travels to a monastery to study with the monks. The man wants to learn zen from the masters. Upon arrival, he receive invitation from the head of the temple for tea. Of course, he accepts — excited for council with a zen master.

At the tea ceremony, the man is surprised to have his tea served by the head monk. The man meekly accepts as the master pours.

The man’s cup begins to fill. The master smiles servily and the man sits patiently.

The cup fills more and more; the master continues to pour.

The cup runs over; still, the master pours on.

Confused, the man says, “Master… the cup is overflowing. Why do you keep pouring if it can’t hold any more?”

The master responds, “You are like the cup. You are full. If I try to teach you zen, it will only flow over. Before I teach you, you must empty yourself.”

I have recently started private lessons for BJJ. At the outset, the experience was less than great. I was coming off an injury. I felt like I couldn’t fit BJJ let alone extra lessons into my schedule. Essentially, these lessons came with alot of anxiety. This anxiety was then met with some rather underwhelming first few lessons. After preamble and introduction, we settled on starting with fundamentals. But these fundamentals were very square one. We worked for 30 minutes on just falling. ((( Here, I would be remiss to not say that falling is one of the most common things you will do in BJJ. Therein, it is extremely important for your own ability to move and be safe. I was being a poo-poo head and wanting to learn “the cool stuff” or whatever. Learn to break-fall. )))

More important than the subject matter of these first few lessons was how the teach handled my questions. Many of my questions centered around zeroing in on the “correct” way of doing something. I want to know exactly how to do a drill.

• Why to do the drill.
• What I should be looking a head to after the drill.
• Contingencies and corner cases of the technique.
• Other styles solutions for the same problem.

I want to know all this BEFORE I even start a drill. This all is rather important information. I want to know why I am doing the drill, so I can get the most out of each rep and never miss an insight. I want to be knowledgable of what’s to come, so I can know when to move on. Contingencies will tell me the limitations of the drill. Other styles can inform me about the personal game I am building.

Despite the air-tight and well-founded reasoning my teach asked, with healthy suspicion, “What is beneath all these questions?” He was wondering if I was afraid of being hurt or something else.

Knowing that I had been found out. I fell quickly into a long, lilty, very qualified answer. In this, I discussed how know the “Point” of something speeds up learning and this and that. But eventually, I caved and said that this all stems from my own perfectionism. I have a problem where I have to fully figure a problem out before I even start. So, I won’t mess up.

Upon hearing this, he told me that he has felt similarly, and he leans up the phrase:

My faith will be made sure in my going.

Which boils down to trust.

Before my most recent lesson, I had the pleasure of watching someone go from a blue belt to a purple belt. In this, the coach giving the new belt talked about the humility and openness of the student. In that student’s empty cup, I saw how full mine was. How pretentious was it of me to turn my nose up at my own perception of the simplicity of the lesson when a master has told me it was worth while. It is a demonstration of a lack of faith that still felt as though I need to prefect (or “out smart”) the exercises instead of learn from them. Having this impressed upon me — I endeavored to empty myself and drink up and the feet of my teacher.

The lesson was still frustrating. Firstly, learning is frustrating. Secondly, there is a notion in BJJ that “there is no wrong way.” This notion is very frustrating when you are pretty sure, then, that you are developing the first wrong way to do it. I digress.

The important interaction from this lesson and why I’m writing this at all is as follows:

I made some statement about trying to figure out a position before I did the move. The teacher then said, “Austin you are very smart and analytic, but…” At which point, I launched into a diatribe about my profound self knowledge — displaying great wisdom that I now know that I must shed my intellect and dissolve myself before I can learn the craft…

He stopped me dead, paraphrasing:

No. Your ability to watch and analyze will take you far and take you there quicker than others.

But it will only do that if you don’t let it get in the way of you doing the practice you need to get there. You have to have balance between being analytical and practicing.

This lack of balance isn’t a new problem for me. I feel as though I have to go one way or another: fully analytic or fully abdicating of my affordance. As you can imagine, I’ve gotten alot more done with the analytic way than the abdicating way. So, I always make a plan. Often enough, I make a plan for the plan. Rarely, though not never, there is a plan for the plan for the plan. I need to figure stuff out before I can move:

• Plan out all the flows for an app before I start the project.
• Completely and fully research all options before doing anything.

What is hard to convey here is the NEED . I need to know what code will look like before I write it. I need an essay to make sense in my head before I start the post. I need to know how a BJJ drill will effect my career as a grappler before I start it. Before I have it figured out, I am frozen. I can’t move. I can’t do anything. And in my head, why would I?

Where does this come from? I won’t be so arrogant to call myself precocious, but I receive the label “gifted child”. For what it’s worth, I was well served by it. I was extended special classes that helped me study harder. I was rewarded and encouraged to learn as much as I could. But don’t worry, I too was soon failed by the American Education System.

They thought they were creating a thinker, a scholar. But they really created a great test taker, a great homework doer. They created someone who’s entire concern was being right. I was right more often than the other kids; this was fun. But the fun quickly ran out and became alot of work. I had to study hard and work to always be right. This leads easily if not naturally to obsession. Or perfectionism, but wouldn’t a rose by any other name smell just as sweet.

My therapist smelled perfectionism on me soon in our time together. But my solution has always been to drop the obsession cold turkey. But this never works, it becomes a new obsession. I’m now obsessed with being un-obsessed. Rough stuff.

So, I think the goal is to try for that balance. Accept that I am analytical, at times to a fault. Still, recognize the power in that analytical predisposition. With equal importance, recognize that being wrong is okay — it’s part of it. Planning and analysis are only one side of the coin. They must be paired with exploration and hypothesis testing. In all this, I think my goal is to champion acceptance, balance, and humility as my new skills of being a learner.