“Kiba-Dachi, yellow belt.”
I stand in horse stance. I have been called to the front of the class before we do chart.
This is unusual.
Sensei pulls out a roll of orange electrical tape.
He cuts a piece and tapes it on the end of my yellow belt.
He cuts another and places another piece of orange tape on the other side, so it is matching.
He motions with his hand for me to turn.
I spin on my heel and face the class. I make eye contact with the empty chair in the back of the dojo.
“8th Kyu! Congratulations!”
I bow and the students bow back.
Well, this was weird.
I wasn’t expecting to be promoted again. It wasn’t that long ago I received the yellow belt. My spot in the line is now different, I stand at the top of the yellow belts, next of the orange. I wait for him to call another student up to be promoted. He does not.
We begin chart.
As we slide through chart I have a different mirror in front of me. I had grown a bit attached to my mirror.
This one has a painting above it, instead of the creed at the top.
I don’t love it. I wouldn’t hang it in my apartment.
A woman stands in the sea, one fist closed and raised, the other open and stretched down. A sea serpent swims behind her. The sea is choppy. The sky is blue, with large clouds. The lines are harsh, her face stern.
“She comes in peace, but she will destroy you if she must,” one of the sensei has lined himself up with me. He followed my gaze.
“Does she have a name?”
“Mizu Gami. She is the Goddess of our style… Use more torque in your shoulders when you punch.”
Instead of kata, we do floor drills.
“Somersault down the dojo!”
I dislike being upside down.
I get into line and go onto my knees.
Children know how to roll without being told. I am having trouble getting my head to accept it.
Sensei stands over me.
“Tuck your chin, roll your shoulder, and somersault.”
I tuck my chin and place the top of my head on the floor.
I am not flexible enough for this.
“You have to keep moving, you can’t just stop on your neck.”
Makes sense.
I suck in a breath and push myself.
I flop onto the floor.
Ow.
That hurt my neck.
I get on my knees again and watch one of the children roll down the floor. He doesn’t seem to think about it at all.
Sensei hovers nearby.
“Try again.”
I tuck my chin, and this time I place my right shoulder on the ground.
“Now keep going and reach through like you must stand up.”
I shut my eyes and push myself.
I flop into a tangle with my own legs.
UGH!
Sensei bellows a laugh.
“Is that really how you roll?” He walks away to instruct one of the other students nearby.
I watch the little children again.
They keep their backs rounded as they finish the roll. This is the part I am missing.
I tuck my chin, roll my shoulder and push before I can think about it anymore.
I spin and I am back on my feet.
I did it!
I can somersault!
I’ve never been able to do this.
I do another.
And another.
I go the other way, my left side doesn’t participate as easily.
I’m crooked.
I had better do more shoulder-in on this side.
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