I competed at the World Master’s Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Championship (Las Vegas). I lost; more accurately, I crashed and burned. I wanted more than anything to win (and be a World Champion). I had won the previous seven tournaments in a row, often by choking my opponents to submission. As it would turn out I was choked, but didn’t tap out. I didn’t tap, because I was angry as hell and stupid. I wasn’t angry with my opponent; I was angry with myself. I wasn’t brave. I wasn’t smart. I went out like a light, and I deserved it. I awoke to realize that I had blown it. The realization that I squandered this opportunity broke my heart.
How did I squander this moment? I believe my ego ruined me. I’m not saying I was guaranteed gold. I know I could have made it through my first match. I was on top. I was doing my game. I didn’t respect my opponent, and wanted to end it fast. I wanted to jump to the gold. It was arrogant to move as I did. In the rawness of the moment my inner self was revealed. In the blackness of the recesses of my brain I saw who I was. Now, I can’t say precisely what it is I saw. I confronted the fire that put one of my legs in front of the other, and had me walk down the plank of my demise.
It was as though I confronted the beginning; I stood before the Big Bang with the ignorance of what would be. I spent months training. I trained everything. I thought I had my head in the game, but then the day came. I abandoned myself, and the moment for the shining object. I was a stupid monkey and couldn’t get away from the glistening gold. When you want something too much you lose sight of the steps to get it. I needed to take it moment by moment. I needed to hurl myself in the present and embrace it with humility. I’m aware of how this went off the rails (and fast it did). So, I learned something. I can’t say I’m a happy camper, but I can say I’m wiser. Wisdom is often earned through suffering. Suffer I have been doing.
I’m not alone in the loss. My team celebrated my demise with me over whisky and tears. I couldn’t have gotten here without them. I don’t know how I would have taken this without the support of my friends and family. I’m a fortunate guy, and I’m keenly aware of it.
Losing doesn’t feel good. Winning feels like a Greek orgy with all the fixin’s, but it needs to end at some point. Why does it need to end? Answer: because the state of being is to suffer. I only learned the first time I won gold; I learned that I could, in fact, win gold. After that I just moved through the motions. The loss had me confront the essence that is known in this here text. I was led to grand knowledge on a trail of burning coals. The searing of my bodily flesh allowed me to come to a place beyond what I had known. In the pain of my demise there stood knowledge. Knowledge is akin to gold. While it isn’t the gold I was looking for, it is sacrosanct.
We have dreams, and these dreams are no trivial matter. I’m a dreamer, as we all are. When our dreams die, a little piece of us dies with it. We have plans, and often, the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry. So, I went searching in the seedy shithole of Las Vegas. I suffered, my dream died, and a little piece of me died with it. In death there is rebirth. I was reborn, having encountered the ugliness of my being. I looked straight at it, and understood it. Yes, I got the opposite of what I was searching for. I did get a consolation prize though. I got a gleaming golden morsel of humility, anguish, death and truth. I left the desert, the bright lights and slot machines with deeper knowledge. I realized that I didn’t lose by gambling with myself in Vegas. They say the house always wins. When you take the risk, put it all out there and bet on yourself you never lose. So, I didn’t get the gold. I sure as hell won something that day though. It may not have been what I was looking for, but dammit I’ll keep it forever.