I’ve had an on again off again relationship with recreation which likely translates to having an on again off again relationship with myself. Over the years I’ve found activities, pursued them, became obsessed and just like the flame that consumed me, it became dim again. The wick not only became dim, but it was also difficult to ignite it with that same caliber of flame. What did I do? Likely what every human being does when they’re in a rut, they dwell in the cave of regression until the inspiration flickers once more.
Captivated by this one thing, loss of interest. I could not for the life of me understand why this once cathartic practice no longer drove me. Took me to places that Maslow talked about in his works, chauffeured me through the caverns of my psyche that Jung so adamantly constructed. I was heartbroken, like a lover of once twisted infatuation no longer yearning to explore destiny with. The flame, magical other, mental oasis had been erased from the ever callous neurotransmitters and dopamine receptors that initially fueled this leisure endeavor. It was indeed a loss.
I used this recreational activity to cope. To help me overcome the stresses of life. It had challenge, immensity, community and appeal. Hard work poured into it and outside relationships fizzled away like Dr Jekyll becoming his Hyde. Not many things mattered outside of work except for class. I HAD TO BE THERE. It was as if I was betraying a jealous lover if I missed a session, my shadow needed this more than anything. This want became an operant conditioning cycle from hell and it soothed all latent issues even if its embers left collateral entities in ruin.
This sounds like perhaps it was an addiction. It was. In fact you can substitute this hobby for any controlled substance or lover. An outside entity or experience that filled the voids in myself. The holes, the empty ambitions, the anxiety of the immensity of choices I had been blessed with, angst from my past, existential dread from past mistakes, fear of future potential. This hobby erased it all, temporarily. The more I consumed the more it was held at bay. After a while there wasn’t enough submission grappling to satiate the furnace inside that kept my issues housed. I needed to address these internal processes outside of the gym. We often take a moment to pause when the loss of something comes into our paths. We seldom analyze why we feel this immense loss. When a relationship ends, when someone using substances finally stops, we do what is natural. We miss. We mourn the feelings we had in lieu of our own suffering. The band aid provided from the lover, the substances, the escape. What if we were to ask ourselves why this thing was so significant and valuable?
Sitting alone in my cave of regression I was packing my gear to begrudgingly engage in another martial arts class. The high had worn off and I couldn’t engage at the same intensity as I did years earlier. My body had failed to keep me at this semi pro level, the injuries were accruing like interest and my emotional situation had not improved. Years later and I was still the same. Despite my new athletic abilities, respect as an intermediate martial artist and pro fighter training partners I was beaten psychically. My soul had submitted…finally. Victor Frankl states “when a man can no longer change his environment, he is forced to change himself.” My environment was crumbling, foundations in ruin and existentially depleted. I decided to put on the Gi again but this time I would be wrestling with my soul.
I explored the holes that Jiu jitsu filled in my life. It was daunting. I geared up with spelunking attire and explored those holes that martial arts filled. I discovered other things in my life that I also used to fill those holes in myself. People, places, things. I was able to pinpoint so many things that I enjoyed because of the malware in my operating system. Viruses from the past, missing code, unscripted code, faulty JavaScript and no web address. A free-floating software desperately yearning to receive upgrades and to be installed, to be of true use. It was harder to face than any opponent, scarier too. As I spoke to the psychotherapist and began analyzing my faults there was a period of osmosis. The internal cleansing and becoming new again, almost like the days of old when martial arts was new to me. The feeling began to churn again but this time in a different direction. I was instructed to put on the Gi per an exercise prescription. I did. This time I approached jiu jitsu from a hobbyist perspective, no expectations.
It always was the same, this thing. BJJ, lovers, drugs, vacations. They seldom promise solace and reprieve. They simply are. What we as humans sometimes do is make something bigger or more important than it actually is. The ecstatic feeling from sparring or painting gets twirled around in our psyche and magnified into our great savior, our “therapy”. This need builds and compounds like interest and before long we either ascend into obsession or our body bears the brunt of our fictitious limitations. This thing, this hobby, this recreation was an insanely useful tool and has taught me about life and my own willingness to escape and get absorbed into things. I am much more aware of them now. From the cave of regressive emotions where I lurked with a broken heart, a sparkle did shimmer through.
I picked up the Gi again. I started training at more conducive hours to fit my lifestyle. In the wake of this new renaissance, I found fellowship and growth with hobbyists. I stopped answering the beckon call of professional trainers that needed a grappling partner for the day. I started listening to my body when the injuries began to stack up. I also started listening to myself in general. Recreation has many definitions depending on the practitioner. To me it has always been to RE- CREATE. Now when I put on my Gi and go to a class there is a renewed invigoration because I am not expecting anything from it. No great soothing of ailments, no armistice to my psyche. This does not mean I do not try, want to get better or scour YouTube for new technique videos. I still do. I still create, I still recreate myself. Each encounter I look to create new bonds, new set ups for moves, neural plasticity, psychological endurance. I seek to renew myself through this activity, to reflect on the day and my own mortality without the need to cure what I was too naive and afraid to face. Jiu jitsu has helped me immensely just like the millions of people that recreate daily. It is however not a cure if something deeper lurks beneath the surface of our emotions and thoughts.
If you can relate to this struggle with a sport, activity, person, place, thing, whatever. Please do a task analysis and ask yourself those deeper questions. Questions that hours of rigorous work can subdue, but not erase. Questions so profound we run our whole lives from them only to suddenly come face to face with that creaking closet door of our subconscious, the path to exploration is just beyond it. If one has the courage to put on a Gi or try something new, then they may have the courage to pursue those questions regardless of where the answer leads. This has been deeply personal to me, thank you for reading.