Schrodinger's Pussy

Yesterday, as a struggled to cope with a rather horrid case of jet lag achieved by flying from London to Melbourne, my host was talking to me and some other guests about his ability to “read” people. He was hailed as being spot on in his assessments by the people present so I asked him if he could give me one sentence about me that didn’t come from something I’d already told him.

After a few seconds he said:

“I think you’re scared”.

I nodded in agreement and replied that I had indeed been scared for about the last week, specifically about coming back to Australia to finish GIC part 2 for Krav Maga.

After a pause he then added, “I don’t mean just that, I mean about everything.”

I asked him to elaborate and he said that I live my life like Schrodinger’s Cat. When I required further clarification he told me:

“You are scared so, like Schrodinger’s cat, you don’t know what a situation will bring so you guess. But instead of finding out what the result would have been by opening the box you go with that guess as if it’s the final answer”.

And….he was right.

I’ve kind of known this for a long time but to have someone else see it is scary. I’ve lived most of my life scared of something or other and my paranoia and insecurity have reigned over huge chunks of my existence in the last few decades.

To put it in perspective.

In April of this year I successfully completed part 1 of the General Instructor’s Course for Krav Maga Global. This is the backbone of any and all Krav teaching for the organisation I belong to, with the exception of the KIC/ Kids Instructor Course, which I already hold.

Part 1 was very hard and I was physically and mentally drained by the end of it. We broke up for nearly 3 months before part 2 was to begin and in that time I was in England and Greece, keeping fit and trying to retain some Kravvyness and not just let all that awesome training fade away.

For the last week I’ve spent most of that time SERIOUSLY contemplating not coming back to complete part 2. I had a multitude of reasons to justify this feeling.

1. It’s expensive and I’m almost at the end of my savings now.

2. It’s a 28 hour journey door to door and my jet lag will undoubtedly be horrendous **

3. If I lose my passport my insurance will pay not only for that but also for the return flight of £682 that I can’t claim back or cancel through conventional means.

4. I can do GIC 2 anywhere in the world so if part 3 happens then I can use that money to take it somewhere like London or Rome which are slightly nearer than Melbourne.

I fretted and fussed and stressed and bit my nails over this for days, locking the cat in the box and was 90% certain I WASN’T going to go back when a friend in England said, “This is just self doubt”.

And she was 100% right.

I have spent most of my adult life locking the cat in the box with the canister of poisoned gas, but only guessing at to whether it was still alive or not. I didn’t want to be proved one way or the other and by just guessing as to the outcome of a situation, I could forever live in a blissful state of calm ignorance, unhampered by the nasty intrusion of reality.

As THIS STORY shows. My reluctance to not only open the box but to even acknowledge its presence made me a bit of a Schrodinger’s pussy. And with that story, the outcome, when I did finally open the box by getting back in touch with the woman involved….nearly 9 years later...was that the cat was not only alive but very pleased to hear from me again.

GIC 1 cured my fear of sparring, an irrational fear that I’ve had ever since I was 4 years old. I know what created this fear but I was unable to move past it until Rune Lind of KMG Global Team made me and the other 14 guys fight for what seemed forever*** on day 11 of a 12 day course.

I never considered myself a coward in the conventional sense of the word. I would stand my ground and even get a kicking to prove I wasn’t scared (retrospectively not a sensible or clever stance to take). However the things that REALLY mattered to me were the ones I shied away from and just guessed the outcome of. Never knowing if the gas had killed the cat or not.

I couldn’t tell the woman I loved (and still love) that I loved her, because I was afraid of the result of doing so. I locked the cat in the box and never opened it. Believing it was better to never find out than to discover that the cat had died. Once I finally opened it with trembling fingers 8+ years later the results were beyond what my dreams were made of. The cat was far from dead. The cat leapt out and wanted to play, bearing no grudges at its 8 years long isolation from my life.

When I told the woman from this story that it was better to never have known how she felt than to discover she hated me or had forgotten me she shook her head, smiled and went “You’re silly”.

Similarly with Krav Maga I have returned to a world that is going to be 12 more days of intense activity and even pain. However, pass or fail I now have the desire to shut the cat in the box only long enough to see whether it is alive or dead by the end of the experiment. If I pass I will feel like a king. If I fail I will be dissapointed but I will know that I flew back 10,500+ miles to do this and can retest at any time in the future.

It was only when I actually saw my checked baggage fuck off on the conveyor belt at Heathrow terminal 4 that I finally realised I was definitely going back for GIC 2. 7 hours to Adu Dhabi. 2 hour stopover. 12 hours to Melbourne.

When I got to Southern Cross station at 5.30am and it was 2 degrees centigrade I was laughing my head off. Amazed at my own audacity to treat a journey around the world like a trip to visit friends in the next town. I’d finally stopped being Schrodinger’s pussy.

The fears we don’t face become our limits.

Nuff said.

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** It was.
*** Actually 25 minutues.

The Bonus Material

Like a decent Blu-Ray, Krav Maga has a lot of supplemental material thrown in. Not only do I now feel more confident physically but I've recently realised just how much “good” stuff I get thrown in for free.

For example...

1. Feeling useful

I like to feel useful. I like to feel I've helped someone. I also like to reassure those who look like they need it. At inductions this is entirely possible due to the newbies that turn up. You know the scene. Non club t-shirt, no groin guard and so queasy they look like they are about to audition for X Factor. A simple introduction and handshake seems to be appreciated and I try to partner newbies during the initial part of the lesson (at inductions with KMM we focus on the basic strikes for a while). I also attempt to be reassuring. Something I used to do and I see other people do if they're new, is to apologise whenever they hit their partner or successfully put them on the floor.

E.g. During “try and touch your partner's chest while they try and prevent it” you can hear a lot of embarrassed “Sorrys” and “You OK?” when someone gets through the other's guard. Also during headlock releases you can see the looks of unease on inductionees as bodies thud to the floor after having their faces grabbed. Again, being reassuring to those who aren't used to this can work wonders and put them at ease.

Best way to some this up would be “Feel free to kick my groin, it's protected. If you aim for my leg to try and be nice then that's gonna hurt!”

2. Self confidence

This gets a boost due to the longevity of me doing Krav for 3 years. If you spar with someone you know is better than you, and even ONCE manage to land a hard roundhouse or right hook...then you feel great. I've never been a fighter and being able to face guys much better than me and, win or lose, walk away after touching gloves with your opponent it makes you feel much taller. Feeling that the techniques are coming together into a coherent pattern that you have incorporated into your muscle memory is cause for jubilation.

This ripples out to other areas of my life so I am less agitated in social or even work situations as I feel I can try more things and give them a good go.

3. Paranoia Killer

I've always been a bit paranoid. Currently take Propranalol (try saying that drunk) in mild dosages to combat anxiety. It works wonders but a mixture of the beta blocker and Krav have made me realise that the world isn't out to try and hurt or upset me and, as Imi Lichtenfeld once said, “so that one may walk in peace.” Being able to walk down the main street without feeling anxious, nervous or (at night when the drunks are out like something from The Walking Dead) scared...is a great feeling.

4. Ego Compacter

Another thing I've always had is a big ego. Not simply for self promotion but the desire that if something happened that was unjust or unfair then I HAD to do something. I joined the police in 2004 because I wanted to be a hero (and resigned in 2008 after finding out that they wanted anything BUT heroes in the force). I would see injustice and wade in. Like Liam Neeson tracking his kidnapped daughter in the movie Taken, I didn't have a “next step”. I'd simply wade in, with almost no fighting ability, an average size body and an ego that wanted to crush all bullies and perpetrators of injustice.

After doing Krav for over 36 months I can now weigh up a situation and walk away or try and defuse it verbally...without feeling like a pansy. I recently had an argument with a friend of mine who had drunk 6 bottles of Greek raki and was telling the girl I was dating that she “deserved better than Lance.”

Attempts to tell him to back off were met with the response “you want to get into it with me? Coz it won't last long!” and due to my obvious anger, my date got upset. I stayed calm and vowed to speak to my mate when he was sober. Next day he had no memory of the incident and was embarrassed and apologetic. Had my older self been there, there would have been at the very least some pushing and shoving, followed by the two hulking sons of the Greek owner of the pool bar we were drinking in, breaking it up and asking one or both of us to leave.

Krav is about avoiding the confrontation unless necessary. Best comparison was an incident 10 years ago in Moldova when a local guy insulted the woman I was with, Helen, and called her a whore for drinking with foreigners. I was very drunk and followed him into a room (where about 4 of his mates were waiting for him) and demanded he say sorry to Helen. Next thing the barman took my gently by the arm and pulled me away. I felt that honour was satisfied but Helen said to me the next day “I wasn't bothered by him. He was just some stupid guy. Moldavian men sometimes carry knives or even guns. You could have got yourself killed and for what? To prove you are better than him?”

Avoid the fight, don't let your ego put you in the morgue.

5. Fitness

Only after a month in Crete do I realise just how easy it is to get unfit VERY quickly. First two days of my 4 week holiday I was drinking and smoking and not gettng hangovers. Within a week I was sleeping all day and swearing at daylight ("God's Flashlight" as I call post drinking summer sun beams). Getting back into Krav afterwards was hard but now I am back on course and can remember that wonderful feeling of feeling fit. My day job means I do a LOT of walking but cardio fitness is another bag entirely. Being fit enough to survive a P4 grading (see here for that story) is a great feeling and when my body feels strong, I feel I can achieve almost anything.