Kristin Barrett Second Degree Black Belt

"To a real warrior, 

power perceived 

may be power achieved."

"To practice Zen or the Martial Arts,

you must live intensely, 

wholeheartedly,

without reserve - 

as if you might die 

in the next instant" 

- Taisen Deshimaru

"Victory

is reserved for those

who are willing 

to pay it's price." 

- Sun Tzu

"The more you sweat

in training,

the less you will bleed 

in battle."

  - Motto of Navy Seals

I will never be the same.
Ever have one of those life changing experiences,
a turning point in your life,
that sets your path
in a way you didn't know was possible?
Yesterday was one of those days.

Andrew invited me to his school to watch
the final day of Kristin Barret's 2nd Degree Black Belt test.
Kristin is his dear friend, fellow Black Belt and a teacher
at Trento Martial Arts and Fitness.
After 5 days of unusual physical and mental rigor -
including 3000 jumping jacks in one day -
he was ready to administer the final 3 hours
of tests in front of a panel of judges,
many of whom were teachers from her past.

The room was emotionally charged with
joyful colleagues and students who
hadn't seen each other in years,
proud parents and friends, hearts bursting with pride,
anticipation over what was to come
and stern concentration from the participating athletes.
You've heard the expression "It takes a village"?
Yeah, this event took a village, a very special one.

Andrew is one helluva leader. His students,
and there were plenty of little ones,

were quiet and attentive the whole time.
You can see them "protecting the mirror" above.

The panel of judges was impressive.
Andrew put together a This-Is-Your-Life dais of
important people from Kristin's and his 13 year
martial arts career. It took more than a few phone calls
to assemble these people. Some had been out of touch for years.
A few folks in attendance had left martial arts training
due to a traumatic emotional schism in
Andrew's and Kristin's former school
where they had trained as teens.
The reunion was thick with meaning.

Kristin herself had been out of the martial arts
for years for a while there
because of the rift at their former school.
A few years ago
she reconnected with Andrew, whose school was "underground"
at the time, and began training for the 2nd Degree Black Belt test
that she should have taken in 2005.

The acknowledgment of her return to martial arts,
to teaching,
to training with Andrew
combined with the room full of old and new friends
had us all vibrating with a bright energy.
We were ready to root for her.

I've never seen a live exhibition of the martial arts.
Even with my love of the martial arts philosophies
and my striving to develop a warrior spirit
I'd never actually been in the room with
the artists expressing the art.
This was my first time.

For a detailed move by move report
of the test itself, please go to Andrew's blog
(click here).
I'll give you a few of my impressions.

When I first saw Kristin she was sitting in the middle of the floor
on the mats in meditative preparation.

The Zen candle remains lit for the duration of the test.
If it looks familiar, you're correct.
Andrew lent me that candle for my hospital room
this summer when I had my knee replaced.
That and the bonsai tree from his dojang watched over
me as I recovered.
Seeing that same candle as a major fixture in the belt test
got me pretty choked up,
but choked up is nothing compared to the emotional
storm of watching Kristin being tested.

There was a portion of the test called "rapid sparring"
where her colleagues and trainers come at her
in short (violent) bursts of attack over the course of 10 minutes.
She defended herself well, but toward the end she could barely keep her
arms up. We could see that she was mustering her strength to stay upright.
My friend Jil sat next to me crying for Kristin.
My eyes filled with tears. I had been there. I've struggled to stand
while the world kicked me relentlessly.
Giving up crosses my mind often, but I never give up.
I could see this in Kristin. Her face was obscured by protective gear
but her eyes were speaking.
I could see her determination
rising to beat her exhaustion. Andrew called time.
We could all breathe again.

Her next beating was like nothing I'd ever seen.
Did I say "beating"? I meant "challenge"
(no, I definitely meant 'beating')
took place in the dark.
They spread a giant tarp on the floor and dumped
bottles of water on it to make it slippery.
Kristin was blindfolded.
A bad remix of Lady Gaga's Poker Face was blasting
as a distraction. Several of the judges came at her
from different angles (only the most accomplished of them
could handle this delicate task and stay sharp on the slippery floor).
At one point Andrew was on top of her pinning her arms down
with his knees.
I had never seen him like this.
As a matter of fact I have never seen him perform.
I've  not seen him do even one kick or throw one punch.
I've only seen pictures.
I was fascinated and disturbed as I watched him
dominating her. Not for nothing but she's bigger than he is.
He was not letting her go without the appropriate fight.
She struggled for a good long time trying to free herself
but she looked like she was being crushed by a truck
(mind you this is all "safe" and within the boundaries
of honorable sportsmanship, so don't get
the wrong idea).
I was shocked.
I didn't know he could be so ruthless.
I couldn't believe my beautiful Andrew was capable of such things.

It was like watching a kitten
eat the guts out of a bird,
the cutest thing in the world doing something utterly visceral.

Using her legs, she got free but it was clear that he let her get free.
She fought through the rest of the wet tarp challenge.

That task complete, they let her remove her blindfold.
She would now have to defend herself from an attacker that she could see
only the attacker was not going to be after her.
She was directed to look behind her.
There were her parents standing on the edge of the tarp.
The attacker would be trying to attack them.
She had to defend the people she loved
most.
She let out a silent cry from her soul.

I can't describe what she had to do to defend them.
Her "attacker" was a trained expert, years her senior, how many belts
higher than hers. It was a blur of hands and body blocks, desperate
pulling and tackling.
She passed.
He never reached her parents.

One of her final tests was board breaking, always a crowd favorite,
but she was beat up, worn out. We could see the strawberry and blue bruises
on her legs. Her face glowed with sweat. Her eyes were losing their glimmer,
but she persevered, breaking board after board with her hands and feet
till the final set.
The testing stopped.
She expressed concern that if she continued she would break her heel,
all in the respectful tone of sir-yes-sir, she honestly said that she didn't think
she should go on.

Andrew consulted the panel of judges.
Each one of them spoke their opinion of whether she should
continue.
No one wanted to see her break her bones.
She had passed every ass-kicking test they had thrown at her,
hard historical questions,
personal questions,
sparring,
self defense,
forms,
and scenarios I couldn't even imagine were possible.

She didn't have to go on to prove herself.
Those judges would have gone into the deliberation chamber
and awarded her the belt without this one last board breaking challenge.

Andrew left the final decision up to her.

We all sat there trying not to breathe.
Each of us was weighing the pros and cons in our heads,
some of us hoping she'd continue, some of us hoping
she'd err on the side of safety and quit.

I started to pray.
God please give her the strength to go on.
She's young. She's strong. Protect her heel.
I didn't want her to break her bones
but I didn't want her to give up.

I had the audacity to think of the possible recovery time
of a broken heel. Easy for me to think that a broken bone
is worth it for the satisfaction of doing the task.
I've been breaking the biggest
bones in my body since I was 17.
I just tossed away my old knees like an old set of tires.
She's 26 and in peak condition.
If she's saying she might break her heel
she means it.

She chose to continue.
I cheered silently to myself.
I could feel others in the room grimacing with concern.
She took a shot and didn't break the boards.
No, God. Say it isn't so.

My praying continued, God give her strength
from a place she doesn't even know she has yet.
I imagined all our energy beaming at her.
In my head I prayed that she'd negotiate with her spirit
for more strength. Jesus Lord please protect her heel
but make it go through those boards!
Please God ... Please God... Please God

THWACK!
The boards crumbled to the floor as her
foot went through them, her heel intact.
The applause sounded like it was coming from a stadium
full of people.
My insides were weeping with joy.
She did it.

Her tests complete, every one of her judges addressed her.
Each had a different encouraging thing to say to her.
Each one's voice cracking with emotion as they spoke.
Our bodies had not been through the tests but our spirits
had felt every blow, every kick, every strain, and every doubt
right along with her.

Andrew called upon a few of us in the audience to speak.
Dear God how could I possibly say anything worthy
of this woman and what I had just seen.

I kicked my mind into gear, my heart already engaged.
I reminded all who were present that when Andrew wanted to open
his school, everyone said it couldn't be done.
Now look at this room full of revered and respected teachers,
loving students, adoring family and friends.
This is what it means to do what others say cannot be done.
Kristin, I had never met you before today but after watching
you for the past 3 hours I feel that maybe I do.
My friend sitting next to me was crying as your colleagues
beat the crap out of you.
I reassured her that you wanted this,
you trained for this,
you could hack it,
you're a fighter.
You certainly proved that to all of us today.

She looked at me with teary eyes as I spoke to her.
A woman of surpassing beauty, who didn't know me except from
what she had heard from Andrew, took my words to heart.
What I said meant something to her.
Her eyes blessed me with their receptivity.
I've never seen anything like her.
I've never seen such strength, determination and vulnerability
in one person. Not like that.
I cannot express how privileged I was to be
a part of her milestone day.

Everyone loved and praised her.
Her students showered their Miss Barret with adoration.

Andrew wrapped her new belt around her waist
as her proud parents, her biggest fans
stood at her side.

I wish I could say that I'll never complain about pain again
after this.
I wish I could do away with doubt and fear once and for all.
Tomorrow I begin my physical therapy.
I'm terrified.
Not of the pain, even though the pain will be awful,
but of failing,
and not even of failing to progress.
I'm worried about failing to be determined enough to do it.
What if I've used it all up?
What if I have nothing left in me?
No desire. No fight.

Kristin's heel, Lisa. Kristin's heel.
She looked you in the eyes and
listened to you like you were important.
Gosh, she may even have thought my comments were profound.
Live up to that, Lisa.
Draw on that strength.

No I'm not a Black Belt and may never be.
I may never know exactly what she went through,
but then again, she'll never know what I've been through,
how many times I almost checked out of life itself because
I couldn't take the beatings any longer,
and how I clawed my way back from the darkness into
the light of wanting to live.
Or maybe she does know.
It may have only been 3 hours (and 5 grueling days)
but she most certainly had
the darkness almost take her down
more than once within that time.
Her light flickered a bit
but she never let it die.
She fanned it back to light every time
while we loved her harder with each challenge.

One of her judges told her to turn and face the audience.
What do you see? he asked.
Support, she said.
Love and support.

If we didn't know her before September 17th, 2011
we know her now.

A worthy and intense warrior.

Thank you, Kristin.

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