I’ve never been a fan of New Year’s resolutions. I don’t dive into new activities just because the calendar starts over. Instead, I value consistency — for its strengths and limitations. Consistency offers stability and reliability, but can make breaking old patterns or adopting new habits harder. Perhaps that’s why I travel so often — it forces a break from routine, providing the reset and space necessary for growth.
In past articles, I’ve discussed the importance of self-awareness and aligning values with personal and professional goals. However, I didn’t delve into how to actively cultivate self-awareness or become more attuned to others.
Self-awareness isn’t easy. It requires an honest evaluation of who you are and how your actions align with your values. This process involves learning, reflection and feedback from those around you. It means listening — truly listening — to colleagues, friends and mentors who can see aspects of you that you might miss. Developing self-awareness is an ongoing journey, but it’s an investment that pays dividends in personal growth and professional success.
Karate has consistently been a source of self-reflection and growth for me. I began practicing karate in graduate school to manage the stress of writing my dissertation. Over time, my dedication earned me my Shodan (1st-degree black belt). However, life’s shifting priorities eventually took me away from training, and I stopped practicing for nearly twenty years. Last year, I decided to return.
Returning to the dojo after such a long hiatus was daunting. When I contacted my sensei about resuming karate practice, I was prepared to start over as a white belt. However, he insisted I wear my black belt. Despite his encouragement, I couldn’t shake the deep-seated fear that came with my return. Though I had a black belt, I felt like a beginner.
Over the years, the basics had slipped away. Beginners likely knew more than I did. I had forgotten nearly everything — from fundamental katas (forms) to advanced black-belt techniques. My sparring was dismal, and my once-sharp moves were clumsy and awkward. It was humbling to realize how far I’d fallen.
There were moments when I wanted to skip practice, overwhelmed by how much I needed to relearn. But more often, I leaned into the discomfort. Even when embarrassed or frustrated, I wasn’t afraid to admit it. Outside the dojo, I spent hours practicing basic techniques and relearning katas, relying on YouTube tutorials — often from other styles — to rebuild my skills. I trusted that my sensei would guide me and refine my technique when the time came.
After months of effort, I relearned all the katas and regained comfort with kihon (basic techniques). But kumite remains my Achilles’ heel. Sparring has always been my greatest challenge. Facing an opponent — especially one bigger, stronger or more experienced — intimidates me. My long absence heightened my fear of injuries, which manifested in hesitation and retreat. And when I hesitated or stepped back, my opponents took advantage, as they should, and I got hit.
Kumite offers no hiding places. It taught me the hard truth: avoiding discomfort doesn’t make it disappear — it only prolongs its agony. Determined to improve, I sought out opportunities to spar with different opponents. Each one became a mirror, reflecting my fears, skills and limitations. Gradually, I started to confront my fear of getting hurt by leaning into the attack.
The key was accepting fear as part of the process. Acknowledging that getting hit is inevitable shifted my focus. Instead of fixating on avoiding pain, I concentrated on advancing. By stepping into my opponent’s space and counterattacking quickly, I disrupted their defense. Yes, I might get grazed, but the momentum shifted in my favor.
Letting go of the fear of pain allowed me to focus less on myself and more on my opponent. “You perceive my punches as faster and stronger,” my sensei once told me. “They aren’t. Just calm down, deflect and move in.”
Karate — especially kumite — has been a profound teacher in my journey of self-awareness. For others, the path might look different. However, self-awareness begins with recognizing what holds you back. Once you identify the obstacle, you can find ways to work through it.
This year has been uncertain, from domestic political tensions to massive layoffs driven by economic and technological shifts. International conflicts — including the Israel-Hamas war and struggles in Ukraine and Syria — have added to the noise.
As 2024 comes to a close, how will you drown out the chaos and move forward, personally and professionally? For me, I want to lean into the discomfort — the uncertainty, the challenges and the fear. After all, isn’t that what makes life exciting and worth the risk?
Happy holidays!
