Finding My Own (Hapki-) "Do"

 A photo of me and one of the instructors at the dojang -- dating 2007. 

I didn’t expect that I would feel so emotional.

Earlier this evening I went to see the Head of the Hapkido gym where I have been training since I came to Korea the first time. I went to tell him that I am discontinuing my regular training at his school and that I will instead continue my training in Hapkido on occasion with instructors irregularly, most likely over weekends. After explaining it to him, getting my black belt from where it hung between the other black belts, bowing to him and the other members in the dojang, and giving my final salute, I left the gym; feeling overwhelmingly sad. I have “outgrown” that school and the only way for my to progress is to leave it.

It is not that I have learned everything that that school and the master can teach me – far from it! There is still much I can learn. It is just that the ratio between what I am learning (and the rate at which I’m learning it) to the time, effort, and money I'm investing is not worth it for me at the present moment. I guess the language barrier has become a big contributing factor towards my decision. There is only so much one can learn via the monkey-see-monkey-do method. I've long passed that level in my martial art career. I am truly sad about leaving. This dojang was my very first and longest lasting martial art “home” in Korea. To tell my instructor that I’m leaving home is similar to a young bird leaving its nest. It is frightening. But it is also necessary because only outside the nest can the bird really mature. I’m not cutting all ties with the dojang; I will still visit there every so often; but for now, the bird has left the nest.

The moment I stepped out of the dojang, knowing that I’ve chosen a new path for my Hapkido-journey, I felt immediately homesick. I walked to a restaurant to have dinner, but had lost my appetite. When my food arrived I let it stand—pretending to let it cool off—for probably a quarter of an hour before I started to eat. While the decision caused melancholy, I am not regretting it. Another Hapkido instructor (and also a close friend) explained to me that there comes a time in every Hapkido practitioner’s journey that he has to find his own Do – “Way.”

When I arrived home tonight and read my emails, I saw a notice from a bookshop informing me that a Hapkido book I ordered had arrived. I’ll go pick it up tomorrow.