The Heroic Step
09/05/2024
In Memory of Grandmaster Quynh Ngo
The path of the Hero goes like this – Once upon a time, there was a young child whose family was enslaved by an evil sorcerer, whose people fled their home as it was destroyed by fire, who was hunted by wolves, who was narrowly saved from the pharaoh in the hands of a stranger. As the child grew, they discovered that their father was the true king lost to his people, the keeper of the lost artifact of power, or the dark sorcerer who hunted them and only they could redeem. The child took their first step down the path of the hero when they realized that they were the one. They had the spark, the gift, the prophecy, the inherited doom to be the only one that could save the world.
At first it was hard. There were many lessons to learn that caused pain and a bruised ego. They learned from childhood friends how to be true to their inner voice. They learned from wise and wily sages they met along the way that there were new mysteries to master. Then in a moment of terrible challenge the child who was no longer a child, had to see that the past would combine with the present to unlock a new, untrodden path. Fatal flaws were not only overcome, but found to be a part of the true gift. The Hero emerged to fight, to sacrifice, to come to the edge of disaster and return, scarred but holding the light. There was a great celebration, the medal was given, the crown was placed, the people were saved and the land could rest as the hero protected and nurtured the people. The triumphant theme song rang powerfully into eternity.
You may have known Quynh Ngo as the GrandMaster who gave those wild speeches at the beginning of training camp that swerved from detailed and forceful instruction, to startling metaphor, to food review, and wound their way finally to profound and heartfelt inspiration. Maybe you also took his classes and were swept up in his boundless energy. Maybe he looked right through your mistakes and uncooperative body to the desire inside of you to be more, and grabbed hold of it, shouting its praise to everyone that could hear. For more of you than seems possible, he came to you again and again. He knew your name, your family, your life, and he made a special place in his own life to think about yours.
If you got your black belt, you knew GrandMaster Quynh the leader. You were in Black Belt meetings at Training Camp. You had a look inside the task of administrating schools spread all over the country and the world. If you’ve had it for a long time, you saw how he envisioned a new being for the style, a way to bring his gifts to bear on his father’s bustling, living creation. You saw that it did not always go smoothly, that it required brazen courage, and that the willingness to make mistakes in the ongoing pursuit of progress was a noisy and constant battle.
While I knew him from a distance before, when I made the decision to make Cuong Nhu the vehicle for my life’s work, I suddenly felt his gaze like never before. Immediately I was an adopted son. There were conversations like never before as my family became an extension of my training. Focus on my form was no different than focus on my parenting. The fitness of my body was no different than the fitness of my marriage. As my school grew, that extended to my students as well.
Each year when he would visit was like a family reunion as he met new students and built on the relationships he had with the old. Each year was a wake-up call as he looked with laser vision at the dojo and how it was preparing students and gave us course-correcting critique. Each year was a recharge as he took my weariness and infused it with inspiration to great purpose. Now, after an already daunting stretch of physical isolation from the style as a whole, and him in particular, I face the reality that what he gave me of his life is all I will get. The lesson concluded abruptly when I thought we were just taking a water break.
I suspect many of you that will read this are in the midst of a similar reconciliation. He nurtured you like a growing tree, shaping, tending and feeding you, and now it feels like you might starve. The living teaching is now a remembered teaching. He had you reaching for a new height and when you look to see how close you are, his hand isn’t there to measure. I hurt. We hurt. Let’s try to be together for that so that we can share the anger, the tears, and also the laughter, and the hope.
But here’s the thing… Are you ready? If not, then feel free to put this down for a while. I’ll wait right here.
Ok. The child I referred to at the beginning was definitely Quynh, but it’s also you. Do you remember when he chose you? It’s because you’re the one. Watching Quynh Ngo turn into Grand Master Quynh decades ago was an intimidating transformation, but imagine how it felt to him! Do you think he felt ready? The hand that guided him forward, that inspired and measured his progress was removed from view, and he had to put aside much of who he was to become the hero we needed. No one is ever ready. The question is, will you take the heroic step forward? Do you see the land in darkness? Can you hear the gathering of evil forces? Are the tribes scattered to the wind, yearning to be united? This is the time of heroes, and in you was planted the hope of us all. The gardener has left the garden, but the gloves are right there, and as you think back, you can see how he showed you the way.
You may take the step up to inspire the school that you lead, the class that you teach, the class that you train in, your family, your friend, even just yourself. The step up is not the step to get back up on your feet and be great at what you do, but the next step above that, where you see the desire to grow in people around you and lift them up. It is the step where you don’t wait for the next instruction, but reach out to find the secrets that will combine with your special gift to create a new reality. It requires leaving your comfort zone, letting your ego be bruised, and reaching for something greater. It also requires you to fail in pursuit of the cause and to get back up, time and time again, to take what failure taught you and use it to win.
You may wonder, “where will the strength come from?” I remember when my dojo was new and there were no other senseis to teach with me. There were days when I didn’t have the energy left to teach. I discovered in those moments one of the most powerful truths of leadership: What you give is magnified back to you. No matter how I felt, I would start strong and energetic, and the response back from my class, kids and adults alike, would charge my battery back up a bit. I would pour that energy back into the class, and they would multiply it right back to me. By the end of the day I was invincible, and then I would collapse into sleep.
You know how to light people up, how to inspire, how to lead the way even into darkness. You’ve been shown. You know how to try, and learn, and try again until you make a breakthrough. You’ve been shown. You know what it takes to raise the bar for yourself, your classmates, your school, your region. You’ve been shown. Will there be more leadership in the future? Yes. Could you sit back and wait to be told what’s next? Yes. But if Quynh Ngo ever looked into your heart and lit it on fire, I challenge you to stand up and spread that light to those around you. Feel it reflected back on you and multiplied.
He stands behind you, fist raised high.