The TKC Philosophy

The TKC Philosophy is something that I live by and cherish. It is something that I learned through trial and error. The TKC Philosophy is not just a set of guidelines and rules, but it is something that continues to grow in the heart.

For years, I have always thought the martial arts was just the punch and the kick and my only focus was perfecting my outward, physical being. But it's not that at all, its more than just the external, the martial arts is also the internal. Your breathing, your internal strength, your "ki" are imbedded within the art. I was missing the whole meaning of the martial arts and what I could learn from it.

For me, the TKC philosophy is more than just a school of four walls filled with students, it is a place in which all students can practice the martial arts and learn valuable lessons for everyday life.

Our philosophy is more than just training people how to fight or protect themselves, but it is about instilling a better attitude toward the school, toward the instructors, toward each other and toward life.

The TKC Philosophy focuses on helping individuals become leaders.

The TKC Philosophy focuses on a team effort.

The TKC Philosophy is believing in yourself. It's learning how to overcome failure and succeed.

The TKC Philosophy provides us with a set of values to follow and goals to set.
It isn't just about being a better martial artist, but a better, wiser and stronger individual. I truly believe that each of our students grow to love the school for the values they learn and keep throughout their life.

The TKC Philosophy isn't just a method for learning martial arts, it's a way of life that each of us can live by.

"Very rarely in our life we take the time to get to know a
person behind a role.

We make judgments.

We pick our likes and dislikes.

but only after we see the human behind the
role that we realize that we are all the same.

No need to judge.



Loving unconditionally.

Now that is what it's all about"

Fariborz Azhakh

Fariborz Azhakh was born in Iran and lived there for much of his childhood. He wasn't very involved in sports or any other type of recreation, but the one thing he did love was going to the movies every week. He looked forward to his older brother coming by to pick him up and take him to the local theatre. One of the first martial arts movies he ever saw was in the early 70's called The Five Fingers of Death. This is the same film that launched the big boom of martial arts movies all over the world and made kung fu and karate household terms.
Though Fariborz loved the kung fu movies, there was only one star who left an impression on his life - Bruce Lee.

When Bruce Lee appeared in a series of movies (The Fists of Fury and The Chinese Connection), Fariborz became hooked on the martial arts. At seven years old he told his brother he wanted to be like Bruce Lee. Though Fariborz never had any formal training in Iran, he would often pretend he was fighting by himself and
imitate the moves he saw in the movies which caused him to like the martial arts even more. He did take a few lessons from a local karate school but he wasn't focused at the time and was more interested in Bruce Lee's moves than what he was learning.

At the age of fifteen Fariborz arrived in America. His older brother had moved to the United States before him and made arrangements for him to stay with an
American family in Santa Maria, California. Since Fariborz didn't know a word of English his brother felt the best way to learn was by living with an American family. Fariborz recalls that this was one of the most frustrating experiences in his life. There were very few Iranians in the area and no one had even heard of Iran at the time so he felt hopelessly lost. He recalls that in his first day attending public school it was Halloween and he was shocked when everyone was
dressed in strange costumes.

Everyday after school Fariborz watched a lot of television so he could practice listening to English. His favorite program was the Tom & Jerry cartoon because the characters spoke slowly with short sentences, which made them easier to understand.

When Fariborz graduated high school he moved to Torrance, California and enrolled at UCLA to study computer science. He then moved again to a small apartment in Canoga Park. To support himself he worked as a waiter at an upscale restaurant called The Magic Pan. It was at this time that Fariborz began to take the first steps in making his childhood dream come true by searching for a place to study martial arts. Cirus, a friend of his who lived in the area, was taking martial arts lessons from a Hapkido studio in Canoga Park and invited him to come and watch.

The school was called J.B. Lee's Hapkido Karate and the instructor was Steve Sexton. Fariborz loved what he saw and immediately signed up for lessons. At that time he wasn't aware of other styles so it didn't matter if the art was karate or kung fu, he just wanted to have some type of formal training and wanted to train with his friend.

From then on, Fariborz admits that he became a martial arts "junkie," spending every available hour at the school. Eventually, Sexton began allowing him to assist in training the beginners which later led to warming up all of the other classes. After two years of training nearly every day Fariborz reached the red belt level. It was at this time that Steve Sexton's partner, who owned one-third of the studio, felt it was best to close down the school. Fariborz didn't want
that to happen so he made a proposal to purchase the school from both of them.

Though waiting tables didn't pay very much, Fariborz did raise enough money to purchase a new car, which he offered to them as payment. Sexton's partner eagerly accepted it as his one-third payment for the school. Sexton made an arrangement with Fariborz to pay the rest in installments over the next few
years.

Although still a red belt, Fariborz took over the studio. Sadly, his peers
didn't want to be taught by a red belt and immediately quit. In fact, all of the students he "inherited" from Sexton left and he was forced to start from scratch.

Running the school on his own and keeping it afloat was a task that was nearly impossible to bear. Fariborz recalls that his schedule was extremely tight because was working all day as a waiter (now at a restaurant called Chadwicks in Northridge) and didn't get off until 4:30 PM. Classes at his school started at 5:00 PM. Money became so tight that Fariborz was forced to live in the school for six months until he could again afford an apartment.

Fariborz continued learning from Sexton privately and in June 1982 he earned his first degree Black Belt. Until this time, considering teaching martial arts as a complete profession was not Fariborz's objective, but upon receipt of his Black Belt, he realized that teaching is what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Sharing the art he loved so much gave him the rewards that would reshape his life.

Fariborz points out that one of his greatest treasures is working with young children. Practicing the art is something he loves and sharing the art with young minds is even better.

The original school, which was owned and operated by Sexton and his partner, was located on Vanowen Street in Canoga Park. When Fariborz became the owner he changed the school's name to Fariborz Azhakh's Martial Arts Academy Hapkido Karate. Unfortunately, admits Fariborz, he didn't really know what he was doing and ran the school the only way he knew — as he was taught. He wasn't aware that there were different methods of teaching available, which he could use to attract and retain more students.

Fariborz Azhakh taught in the same location for roughly four years paying the landlord on a month-to-month basis rather than being tied to a long-term lease. Then, the owner of the building received an offer for the property and sold it. The new owner decided the rent was too low for the area and raised the rent on all his tenants over three times the amount they were currently paying. For Fariborz, the new rent was too high for him to afford so he decided to look for a new location for the school. Unfortunately, he panicked and immediately moved to another small school and signed a ten-year lease because he didn't want this incident to happen to him again.

The new studio was a small storefront on Sherman Way in a very bad location.
Fariborz didn't have any guidance on these matters and jumped at the first thing he saw. After a year in this location, Salvador and his wife Anna, two of his students, advised him to look around and find a better location and a studio that would have the physical capability of expanding.

Fariborz found a school on Victory Blvd., which is where Team Karate Centers is currently located (but it was much smaller then) and left the Sherman Way facility with the generosity of Salvador and Anna who let him borrow money for the first, last and security deposit. Fariborz looks back and remarks how appreciative he was for them to help him like that. Although unsure of why they did it, he speculates that they probably saw the passion he had for teaching and
decided to take a chance on him. It was exactly what he needed.

Although Fariborz now had a new school in a much better place, his teaching methods had not changed; He was still stuck in the old ways. He didn't know what it was to be a teacher and was just telling his students what to do instead of being a service to them. Having had no formal training in being a teacher, he just mimicked what he had experienced.

Fariborz points out that Sexton gave him the wings to fly in learning the physical part of the art and still considers him as one of the best teachers he ever had, however, he needed to find a way to educate himself into providing a better service to his students by helping them understand what they are learning and the philosophy behind each movement.

Sexton had already stopped training Fariborz after he received his second degree Black Belt, so it was up to Fariborz to look elsewhere for some type of guidance. It was during this time that he fell into the tournament scene purely by accident. It was around 1985 when a film called "The Karate Kid" was released and the producers of the film were holding tournaments all across the country to promote the film. Fariborz saw a flyer for one of the tournaments and decided to
see what tournaments were all about. He was amazed at all the different styles that were out there and reveals that it really opened his eyes.

He began entering the forms and open divisions and felt that this was the best thing to help him advance his training. He also met some really great people that made a profound difference in his personal training: Notably Stuart Quan, Simon Rhee and Ho Sik Pak. It was just by watching these people that took martial arts to the next level for him. It was also then he met Michael Matsuda, publisher of Martial Art Magazine at the time, who later put him on his first magazine cover.

Since Hapkido didn't have any forms as part of its tradition, Fariborz created his own and used them in his performances. Fariborz competed mainly in the California area and would occasionally travel across the country to enter a big tournament. It was then that Joe Jennings, a martial arts video producer from Panther Productions, spotted him and Fariborz signed a deal with Jennings to produce a whole series of videos on Hapkido. He was the first Hapkido instructor to provide Hapkido instructional video tapes which are still available today.

Although Fariborz consistently placed in the Top Ten Regional Rankings by Martial Art Magazine, he grew tired of just competing and started organizing his own tournaments the "Southern California Championships." After hosting a total of eight tournaments, Fariborz reflects that the whole tournament scene, both competing and sponsoring tournaments, was not overall a good experience for him. There are a lot of people who sponsor tournaments and are still good at it, but Fariborz points out he would definitely not do it again.

The Hapkido school was continuing to grow but at a very slow rate. He realized he needed help and reflects that the biggest change, and perhaps one of the most pivotal turning points in his career, was when he attended a martial arts business seminar in Sarasota, Florida. Jhoon Rhee was conducting a series of seminars on "professionally running your school" and it was those seminars that really changed the way Fariborz looked at teaching and running his school. It
opened his eyes to what it was to be in the business of the martial arts.

Fariborz wanted to learn more about these new teaching methods and started getting involved with several big consulting companies which included the EFC (Educational Funding Company) and NAPMA (National Association of Professional Martial Artists).

The seminars and associations made a dramatic impact on running the school.
Fariborz became more involved in educating his students rather than just telling them what to do. He included a variety of teaching methods that made learning fun and interesting. The school no longer just focused on learning the punch and the kick, but integrated the development of the mind as well as the body. He incorporated essays and writing assignments so that students would understand what they learned and added gymnastics and tumbling activities that would help the students achieve better motor skills.

He believes that it was this whole new philosophy of learning that made the school flourish and become successful. The school began to grow by leaps and bounds and soon he needed to expand. Thanks to the wise advice from Salvador and Anna, he was able to expand in his current location. Today, the school takes up nearly half the building.

To advance beyond his second degree Black Belt, Fariborz found Hapkido Grandmaster Ji Han Jae, the highest ranking master in America, in the San Francisco area. He began training with Grandmaster Ji Han Jae off and on for several years.

Fariborz admits that meeting him was quite unusual. In their first meeting Grandmaster Ji Han Jae had no objection of training him, however, one of his prerequisites was that Fariborz wasn't allowed to fly to San Francisco — he had to drive. Fariborz thought his suggestion was ridiculous but in order to train with him, he complied.

His first lesson was a rude awakening. He recalls that he was practicing a series of kicks Grandmaster Ji Han Jae said to him, "Your toes are up. You should keep your toes down." Fariborz responded back: "I know," (a response that was more like a comment rather than an agreement). At that moment Grandmaster bowed out and said, "Great, you don't need me anymore; The lesson is over."

They were only ten minutes into the lesson for which Fariborz had paid a two hour fee and Grandmaster just left him there. Fariborz was just furious. He changed clothes angrily and left the studio and drove eight hours back to Los Angeles. It was then he understood why Grandmaster wanted to him drive instead of fly. He had eight hours to think about the lesson and what he did. To this day Fariborz won't say "I know" anymore and doesn't appreciate people saying that to him either.

Fariborz soon returned to Grandmaster with a more humble attitude. His lessons continued with Grandmaster Ji Han Jae for several years. The Grandmaster focused on teaching Fariborz more about the philosophy and history of the art rather than just the physical aspect. He spent a total of ten years periodically driving back and forth learning from him. He earned four more degrees under Grandmaster and now holds a sixth degree Black Belt in Hapkido.

Training with Grandmaster gave Fariborz more respect for the art and taught him to look beyond the tangible. Today, Fariborz requires that all Black Belt candidates learn about other styles, gain a deeper respect for nature and focus on being a better individual through the martial arts.

Team Karate Centers continues to flourish and consistently runs five instructional areas with nearly 400 students and is considered one of the most successful martial arts schools in the nation.

Over the past twenty years, Team Karate Centers has gone through a variety of drastic changes and positive evolutions. The philosophy and concept of the school has transformed from the primary focus on a single individual into a team effort of an entire staff. The school relocated from the Vanowen Street facility to a storefront on Sherman Way to a small warehouse on Victory Blvd. The number of students has continued to grow and the school itself has physically expanded.

The school first begin around 1971 on Vanowen Street as J.B. Lee's Hapkido Karate under the direction of Steve Sexton. It wasn't a large school but it did have a good following of dedicated students. The primary style was the Korean art of Hapkido but Sexton taught with a more open fighting concept than most traditional Hapkido schools.

It was in the early 1980's that the school was on the verge of closure when Fariborz Azhakh, a young Red Belt training at J.B. Lee's International Hapkido Karate, decided he would keep the school open by purchasing it. Upon the acquisition of the school, he renamed it Fariborz Azhakh's Martial Arts Academy Hapkido Karate.

Over the years, the concept of the Martial Arts Academy continued to evolve and the name of the school changed with it. Altogether, the studio's name was changed four times and with each new name came a new logo design. The following is a chronology of each of these names and logos, and what they represented.



J.B. Lee's International Hapkido Karate Association

The school began under the direction of instructor Steve Sexton approximately thirty years ago. The original school was located on Vanowen street in Canoga Park and was under the ownership of both Sexton and a partner. It ran under the name of J.B. Lee's Hapkido Karate Association. The logo for the school was designed in a circular format with the head of an eagle as its centerpiece. The eagle is commonly used to represent the Korean martial art of Hapkido. On one side of the eagle was the American flag and on the other side of the eagle was
the Korean flag to represent the country in which Hapkido was founded.



Fariborz Azhakh's Martial Arts Academy Hapkido Karate

When Fariborz Azhakh took ownership of the school the basic style of the logo remained the same. However, Fariborz's name was placed above it to make it more personal, and "International Association" was removed and replaced with "Martial
Arts Academy." The word "academy" best represented a school where people could be trained in the martial arts and quite frankly, "academy" was also a term that was quite popular at the time. Retaining the "heart" of the original logo reflected Fariborz's reluctance and trepidation to let go of the past and move forward.



Hapkido Karate Canoga Park

A few years after Fariborz purchased the studio, the name and logo took a drastic change in both its style and format. When the school was moved to Vanowen Street in Canoga Park, the name was changed to Hapkido Karate Canoga
Park. Steve Gordon, a graphic designer and one of Fariborz's students, created a new look for the newly named school. The circular format was replaced with a
stylized rectangular shape. The Korean and American flags remained to honor both countries and much larger eagle with fully spread wings was placed in the middle. The more traditional eagle symbol for Hapkido is the bird shown with fully spread wings. The Korean symbols for Hapkido karate were also placed on top.



Team Karate Centers

When the school was moved again to a small section of a warehouse on Victory Blvd. it was named Team Karate Centers. As the fourth logo in the school's history, Fariborz felt that this one best represented the "new" philosophy of the school and a change in its format and curriculum.

The logo contained the new name -- Team Karate Centers -- and Fariborz's name was removed. This captured Fariborz's feeling that the school should be founded on a committed team effort and not associated with a single individual. It was a commitment of a team working together.

The new Team Karate Centers logo concentrated on three boxes each with a martial arts practitioner inside corresponding to individual members of a family. It is also important to note that each of these figures is shown kicking outside the confines of the box. This depiction was also chosen to represent students not limiting themselves to the four walls of the structure but striving to get outside the box. The "Box Challenge" outlined on page 38 further illustrates
this idea.



Martial Arts America

As Team Karate Centers was transitioning out of its infant stage, a new martial arts school organization was being formed. "Martial Arts America" headed by Andrew Wood, had its goal of combining a large number of schools into a single organization. Each would have the same logo and be run under the same bylaws and
be able to share services such as pamphlets, t-shirts, patches and textbooks thereby decreasing school expenses. The logo was red, white and blue and focused on a family practicing the art. Unfortunately, the organization did not meet its goals and was dissolved less than one year later.



Team Karate Centers

After "Martial Arts America," Fariborz returned to the name and logo that he felt best portrayed the teaching methods and philosophy of the school – Team Karate Centers or TKC.

From the time of ancient warriors until the twentieth century, colored belts did not exist. A belt, which was usually white, was used to keep the uniform together. As time passed and the belt was used over and over again, the belt became dirty and worn and eventually turned to dark gray or black.

The exact time when colored belts to reflect rank were introduced to the martial arts is not known, but today it has been adopted by nearly every karate system.
Some schools will only have four belt levels such as white, green, brown and black while others will have additional colors such as yellow, purple or blue.

Each belt denotes different levels of accomplishment and mastery of specific skills and knowledge. As each student progresses in their training, they will enjoy the outward symbolism of their achievement.

The Korean art of Hapkido is the foundation art of Team Karate Centers. However, over the years the martial arts has changed and for some, the concept of a single style has evolved to include alternative fighting methods. The instructional staff at Team Karate Centers teaches Hapkido "blend." "Blend" is defined as a multi-cultural martial art that is based on usefulness. In other words; "use what works" in a given situation.

Although traditional Hapkido is still taught at various schools throughout the world, Fariborz feels that the traditional approach does not work today. He expresses that teaching methods have changed, people have changed and therefore learning has changed.

Team Karate Centers focuses on a four-range system which includes kicking, punching, trapping and grappling.

The late Bruce Lee developed the Jeet Kune Do concept by selecting the best fighting techniques from each style. Fariborz follows a philosophy similar to this concept but incorporates a foundation through Hapkido.

The art of fighting without fighting

There are times in our lives where we can accomplish what we want by approaching it in a different way. The following story clearly demonstrate this point:
A wise old gentleman retired and purchased a modest home near a junior high school. He spent the first few weeks of his retirement in peace and contentment...then a new school year began. The very next afternoon three young boys, full of youthful, after-school enthusiasm, came down his street, beating merrily on every trash can they encountered. The crashing percussion continued day after day, until finally the wise old man decided it was time to take some action.
The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young percussionists as they banged their way down the street. Stopping them, he said, "You kids are a lot of fun. I like to see you express your exuberance like that. Used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favor? I'll give you each a dollar if you'll promise to come around every day and do your thing."
The kids were elated and continued to do a bang-up job on the trash cans. After a few days, the old-timer greeted the kids again, but this time he had a sad smile on his face. "This recession's really putting a big dent in my income," he told them. "From now on, I'll only be able to pay you 50 cents to beat on the cans." The noisemakers were obviously displeased, but they did accept his offer and continued their afternoon ruckus.
A few days later, the wily retiree approached them again as they drummed their way down the street. "Look," he said, "I haven't received my Social Security check yet, so I'm not going to be able to give you more than 25 cents. Will that be okay?"
"A lousy quarter?" the drum leader exclaimed. "If you think we're going to waste our time, beating these cans around for a quarter, you're nuts! No way, mister. We quit!" And the old man enjoyed peace and serenity for the rest of his days.

Culture

This story goes back to the year 1972 when a young English scientist, named George, was traveling through Africa. George worked for a pharmaceutical company as a biologist. During one of his longer stays in a small village in Africa, he got to play with a small monkey, whom he later named E-mo. He spent a lot of time playing around with his pet monkey and took a liking to his pet's habits. During one of the hot and humid afternoons, George observed little E-mo digging the ground for sweet potatoes. He watched the little monkey taking the sweet potato out of the ground, only taking a small bite out of each potato and throwing the rest away. After watching E-mo for a while George decided to teach the little monkey how not to waste food. He began the very next morning teaching his pet how to take the sweet potatoes to the nearby river and wash them in the river. He figured that E-mo would enjoy sweet potatoes more if they were clean and free of mud. He was right. E-mo began to like the idea of washing his sweet potatoes before eating them. It took George more than two months to train this little animal to do this.
George finished with his assignment after a few months and went back to England. Leaving E-mo was one of the hardest things George ever had to do. The two of them had developed a unique relationship, one that George would never forget.
Several years went by before George was assigned to another project in Africa. He was excited and wondered if he could find E-mo again. Much had changed in the past few years. "E-mo must be a grown monkey by now and there is little chance the small animal will remember me," George said to himself.
When he arrived in the same village where he first met E-mo, he noticed that many things had changed. He immediately started searching for his long-lost friend. First he looked for E-mo where the monkeys used to hang around. But he did not see E-mo or other many monkeys. He asked the local people where he could find this special breed of monkey. They told him that he could find the monkeys near the river bed. So he left quickly for the river.
When he got to the river, he noticed the most incredible thing he had ever seen in his life. All the monkeys were bringing their sweet potatoes to the water and washing them before eating them.
He was stunned. He looked around the small group of monkeys when his eyes locked with one. "Is that E-mo?" he thought to himself. The monkey kept staring at him. George started walking towards the group. The monkeys screamed and started to jump around and warn the others about the intruder. They all screamed except the one that stared at George. The two looked at each other a while longer before George leaned down and opened his arms to welcome his long-lost friend. The monkey ran to him like a little baby running to his Mom.
The two held each other for a while before George sat back and watched his friend and the rest of the group return to what they were doing before. George continued watching and watching. He saw how all the monkeys were washing the sweet potatoes exactly the way he had taught E-mo and E-mo had, in turn, taught them.

What is your NEST like?

A man found an eagle's egg and put it in a nest of a barnyard hen. The eaglet hatched with the brood of chicks and grew up with them. All his life the eagle did what the barnyard chicks did, thinking he was a barnyard chicken. He scratched the earth for worms and insects. He clucked and cackled. And he would thrash his wings and fly a few feet into the air. Years passed and the eagle grew very old. One day he saw a magnificent bird above him in the cloudless sky. It glided in graceful majesty among powerful wind currents, with scarcely a beat of its strong golden wings. The old eagle looked up in awe. "Who's that?" he asked. "That's the eagle, the king of the birds," said his neighbor. "He belongs to the sky. We belong to the earth-we're chickens." So the eagle lived and died a chicken, for that's what he thought he was.
Source: Unknown

Crabs

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and I had decided to spend my afternoon by the Santa Monica Pier. I started walking past the shops and restaurants on the pier when something near a small seafood restaurant got my attention. I noticed a big barrel, without a lid, that was full of crabs. Since it was placed right by the pier, I realized these crabs could easily jump out and fall back into the ocean. Feeling really good about my discovery and my righteousness about this whole event, I approached the restaurant owner and told him about what was going on. To my surprise, the owner of the restaurant laughed at me and told me to go back and watch the crabs more carefully. I thought to myself "Look at them carefully; what does that mean?"
I spent two hours by the pier looking at that barrel full of crabs. I noticed that every time one of the crabs tried to get to the edge of the barrel to escape, all the other ones would pull him back in.
It was amazing to watch these creatures do this over and over again. That entire afternoon, my mind was filled with all kinds of similarities to those crabs. I began to recognize this particular behavior in myself and other people around me. I realized that I have had many different kinds of crabs in my life: friend crabs, girlfriend crabs, student crabs, co-worker crabs, boss crabs, etc. I thought of all the times my so-called friends would call me and talk me out of doing something that I wanted to do (something I knew was important).
My questions to you are: Who are the crabs in your life? Who and what is holding you back from doing what you want? When you decide to work out, go on a diet, or do something worthwhile, who and what stops you?
What kind of conversations are going on in your mind? What is it that makes it important to listen now and forget later? Why do we say we are trying to do the everything right, but choose not to do the right thing? Who are the crabs that govern our lives?

Time Management

A while back, I was reading about an expert on the subject of time management.
One day this expert was speaking to a group of business students and, to drive home a point, used an illustration those students will never forget.As this man stood in front of the group of high-powered overachievers he said, "Okay, time for a quiz."Then he pulled out a one-gallon, wide-mouthedmason jar and set it on a table in front of him. Then he produced about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully placed them, one at a time, into the jar.When the jar was filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, he asked, "Is this jar full?"Everyone in the class said, "Yes."Then he said, "Really?" He reached under the table and pulled out a bucket of gravel. Then he dumped some gravel in and shook the jar causing pieces of gravel to work themselves down into the spaces between the big rocks.Then he asked the group once more, "Is the jar full?"By this time the class was onto him. "Probably not,"one of them answered. "Good!" he replied.He reached under the table and brought out a bucket of sand. He started dumping the sand in and it went into all the spaces left between the rocks and the gravel. Once more he asked the question, "Is this jar full?""No!" the class shouted. Once again he said, "Good!"Then he grabbed a pitcher of water and began to pour it in until the jar was filled to the brim. Then he looked up at the class and asked, "What is the point of thisillustration?"One eager beaver raised his hand and said, "The point is, no matter how full your schedule is, if you try reallyhard, you can always fit some more things into it!""No," the speaker replied, "that's not the point. Thetruth this illustration teaches us is: If you don't putthe big rocks in first, you'll never get them in at all."What are the 'big rocks' in your life?A project that YOU want to accomplish?Time with your loved ones?Your faith, your education, your finances?A cause?Teaching or mentoring others?Remember to put these BIG ROCKS in firstor you'll never get them in at all. ---So, tonight or in the morning when you are reflecting on this short story, ask yourself this question:What are the 'big rocks' in my life or business? Then, put those in your jar first.

Principles of Black Belt in Action

It was 4:30 p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. I was teaching my class when the parent of one of my students ran into the school, yelling, "Mr. Fariborz, Mr. Fariborz".
I responded quickly to her call and asked her what was wrong.
"There is a car accident outside and two of your kids are in the car," she said.
I immediately ran outside looking for the accident. A car had smashed into the car that my students were in and the two kids were still inside. The mother of one of the children, who also happened to be the driver, pulled one of the kids out while I managed to pull the other one out. Little Thomas was covered in blood and very frightened. The other kid, Brian, was crying and looked really scared. I started to clean Thomas's face, as I talked to both children to calm them. Brian was extremely brave and pulled himself quickly together after realizing he was OK. I accompanied Thomas to the hospital, since his parents were not there. All the way to the hospital, I remember Thomas asking about Brian and what had happened. He had a great attitude the whole time. Once we got to the hospital, the doctor cleaned Thomas's face and prepared to stitch his wound. I remember holding Thomas's hand, watching him grimace in pain. We started talking about the Student Creed and Principles of Black Belt, and it was amazing to see how well he remembered both of them. It was then, for the first time that I felt like a father. Suddenly, the Student Creed and POBB meant so much more than mere words. By the
time we were done, the doctor had finished the 12 stitches on Thomas's face.
It only takes one experience like this to get you thinking deeply about your own life. Suddenly, the things that occupy your mind every day seem a little trivial compared to the bigger questions, the deeper issues, the fundamental essence of who and what you are and why you're here. It's not always a car accident that opens the door to an expanding experience. I've had the same feelings while climbing the face of a wall in Malibu, or hearing the news that the woman I loved the most is to be married. I've had them looking up at the sky, filled with thousands of stars, one cold night, while listening to the music of Cusco. I've had them watching my Black Belt candidates walk through a candle-lit pathway to receive their Black Belts in an auditorium filled with people, as I told myself, " They will never forget this."
It is during those times of deep searching, of expanded perspective, that we begin to establish what Roger Merill calls "VIP CONNECTION." "VIP" stands for the principles involved - VISION, IDENTITY and PURPOSE. He also calls it "VIP" because he believes that you and I and everyone else in this world truly are "Very Important Persons," each with unique talents and great contributions to make.
VIP is that inner connection that hooks us up to our own deepest values and possibilities.
These are sobering times, meaningful times, often great times. When you really come to grips with your inner self, you feel as if you are on top of a mountain and the things you deal with every day are somehow smaller and more in perspective. You can see where you're going. Maybe you can even see the path to get you there. I've seen this in the eyes of all students who start as a White Belt at TKC, with the dream of becoming a Black Belt. But the vision doesn't last forever. You get caught up in the routine of daily living and find your dream slipping farther and farther away from your conscious awareness. Before long, if you don't have some way to keep it before you, or if another perspective expanding experience doesn't come along, the connection is broken and the vision becomes almost totally obscured. The challenge, then, of keeping that connection strong becomes the challenge of capturing the vision and keeping it before you on a regular basis. I believe the single most effective strategy to accomplish this purpose is a written creed or a personal mission statement. A mission statement contains three basic elements. The first is what you want to be - what character strength you want to have and what qualities you want to develop. The second is what you want to do - what you want to accomplish and what contributions you want to make. The third is the values and principles upon which your life is based.
With this in mind, I encourage you to relearn the Student Creed and make an effort to use it in your daily life. I would also like to thank Thomas and Brian for being my teachers and allowing me to learn so much from their lesson.

Assuming

I can see how my mind falls into autopilot so often. It is almost like it does not want to be here right now. Even right now while I am writing this chapter, my mind wants to think about other things. I am beginning to understand that my mind only wants to save me from what is going to happen in the future based on what has happened to me in the past. It is almost like my judgmental mind works faster than my objective mind.
I don't know why my mind assumes so much and why it categorizes everything as though I think I know it all. It reminds me of an incident that happened to me a while ago.
It was a warm summer afternoon about 2:30. I was in my office all by myself, working on my computer. My office at that time was downstairs across from the entrance to the studio. There used to be a half wall between my office and the entrance.
I remember sitting in my office this particular afternoon. The entrance door opened and I saw a woman entering the studio. I noticed the woman held the door for a second and shut it close. I assumed that she had a child with her since I could not see the other side of the half wall.
The woman started walking towards my office and yes, I was right, there was a small child following her.
I watched the woman and her child walking towards me and that was when I noticed the child was kind of strange. He bumped into the glass cabinet by the door and kept hitting the walls. "Oh, no!" I said to myself.
During the time the mother and the child got from the door to my office, I had the whole thing figured out. I knew the kid was a little brat and the mom wanted me to do miracles with him. I could picture the little wild child in the class causing problems and interrupting the class.
When they walked in the office, I was ready to wrap this one up really quick. The mom said hello politely and asked me if we teach children. I answered "Yes, of course we do. Is this your little son?" I asked while I reached over to give a high five to the little child. The mom cut me off quickly and said in a quiet voice: "Michael is blind and we were just wondering if there is any chance of him being able to take karate lessons."
I felt like I wanted to just shrink down and disappear. I felt so ashamed of myself for having all those negative thoughts about that little boy.

Remember this:

" When you ASS-U-ME something, you are making an ASS of U and ME!"

"Cherish your yesterday; dream your tomorrow; but live your today."

Other side of the river

In all my years training in the martial arts, I have always worked and practiced for something or some goal in the future. I remember starting my training and not wanting to be a white belt. To me the green belt was where I wanted to be. I used to look at the advanced classes and think to myself "Wow that's cool. These guys are so good." I recall getting prepared for my green belt exam and thinking that brown belt was the ultimate coolness. Before I wore the brown belt for the first time, I already had my eyes fixed on the red belt and after that the Black Belt. This kind of thinking has followed me for years. I find myself constantly not wanting to be here right now.

I was seven or eight years old when I got my first glimpse of martial arts. Back in Iran, martial art movies were just beginning to flourish and the whole Bruce Lee era had just started. On his days off, my older brother would take me to early shows in downtown Tehran's movie theaters. I used to come home and do (more like pretend) karate for hours. I used to imagine myself kicking and punching. I even made sound effects that were pretty real to me.

Looking back now I don't recall doing all that for any belts or to get anyplace. I used to have fun just doing it.

I miss those times. It seemed that I was in the moment at all times. Somehow, somewhere. I have learned to set goals. To strive for more. To go further and want to do more. I learned how to beat someone else at competitions. Even further, I learned to play the tournament game. I learned to copy. I learned to lie. I learned to tweak the truth. I learned to judge others. I learned the politics... I learned it is more important who you know and how well liked you are than being how good you are.

Imagine this: you are about to go across a jungle to find what ever it is that you are after in the other side of the jungle. You start walking through this jungle. You get to a river. It is impossible to swim across. You decide to build a boat. It takes you 3-4 years to build the boat. (3-4 years of training towards your Black Belt).

You work hard building the boat. You get the strongest wood to support the weight of the boat. You are busy everyday working to build this boat. (Because success means working hard to you).

You finish building the boat. You go across the river. You get there and something happens. You think to yourself that you could have made the boat faster. So you decide to go back and build another one. You do that. You get across again and think to yourself that you could have made it bigger. More fancy. You do that. On the way you notice others building boats. You decide to participate in little competitions. You learn to beat the other boats. You start taking notes on how others built their boats. You pick up techniques here and there and you keep going back and fort on the river. You might even decide to build a school teaching people how to build boats (like I did). Or even better how to beat others in this game. Train champions.

But let's don't forget the sole purpose of the boat and that was to get across the river. The goal is on the other side of the jungle. The river is a battle. The war is the jungle.

I’ve taught lessons to others that I didn't do myself. I got mad at others for not following up with the lessons. I was really mad at myself.

I had failed as a person to go across the jungle by building that school by the river. The glory of winning the battle almost cost me losing the war.

I stopped everything. I stopped competing. I stopped being a hero. I stopped my public victories. No more martial art magazine articles. No more quick fixes. The price I paid was heavy. I lost one of the greatest relationships in my life. I had lost the war.

It has taken me years to recover and rebuild from the past. Actually I shouldn’t say rebuild, because I didn't rebuild. I started from a different lot and build a new complex with new foundations. Albert Einstein said: "The significant problem we face cannot be solved at the same level of thinking we were at when we created them."

What I had to do was to go back and take inventory of my belief system. I challenged everything I knew. Then I went back to the basics. I remember the day it happened clearly. It was a Sunday afternoon coming from my favorite spot in Malibu. I was driving in the Malibu Canyon. That is where I saw the old cassette that was in my car. The title of the cassette was Today is the first day of the rest of your life by Dr. Tom Whillhite. I listened to the cassette.

I had gotten the message

My questions for you are:

What is across the river for you? What is your primary aim?

Where is your river?

What does your boat look like?

Are you carrying the boat on top of your head after you crossed the river?

What are you pretending not to know?

"What you are is so loud, I can't hear a thing you are saying..."

"God wraps it's gifts to you with wrapping called problems"

Sculptor

The story is told of a young and gifted sculptor who, during the early 1900s, left the cobblestone streets of Italy in search of opportunity in America. Spending his every penny to make the voyage, he arrived destitute and hungry. To make early ends meet he accepted work under the stewardship of a respected stoneworker. Day after day, he was assigned stones, which were two-foot square, and was directed to chisel very simple patterns. For example, on one stone he was directed to crave a straight line, on a second stone he etched a small circle. While the job provided means for shelter and nourishment, it was not before the sculpture found himself disgruntled. With his vast skills left untapped, he felt bored and unfulfilled. One evening, while searching solace in the cool of the night, he happened upon the construction site of a nearly completed building. The edifice seized his attention. The entire face of the building was a display of stonework beyond what he had ever before encountered. He marveled and deep inside dreamed of someday participating in such a work. "Someone," he thought,"is in the process of creating a masterpiece."

In awe, he determined to get a close-up view. Crossing traffic and slicing through a field, he scaled a chain-linked barrier to reach the destination. His heart stood as he examined the work of art.

To his amazement, the "masterpiece" consisted of no more than a series of meticulously arranged, two foot-square stones etched with simple patterns-straight lines and small circles. The creation was his own.

Warriors and honor

It was a normal Friday morning. I had just finished with one of my private lessons when Kimberly, the school manger, told me I had a phone call. I asked her if she knew who it was. She said yes and told me who it was. I was surprised. I hadn't heard from this person for a while. I got on the phone. I said good morning in Korean (that is the only thing I know how to say). He laughed and said good morning also.

My friend, who happens to be one of the most respected martial artists in the world, wanted to come down and spend some time with me. I was honored. I have always looked up to this gentleman.

He arrived about 2:00 p.m. and after a small chit-chat we started talking about the issues and challenges that were going on in his life. During the time he was talking, I started going through my own conversations. I saw myself in him and I recognized the pain he had. He was my mirror.

I stopped trying to help him. I listened quietly to the pain of this warrior. We were in the same war fighting different battles.

He talked about history--history of the arts in Korea and the importance of learning from history. He talked about a matter that really got me thinking. He told me how in the old days the warriors and those who protected the kings were among the top level of society. They were looked upon as noble and being a member of this clan was an honor. He also told me how entertainers and musicians were among the lower class. He talked about how nowadays the things are backwards. The warrior families are gone, having found jobs in restaurants and other places to make a living. He was talking about how in his homeland honor was everything. The arts taught honors. The warriors lived with honors.

Our morning walk

I love Tuesday and Thursday mornings because I get the chance to go for a walk with my son. We usually walk through our neighborhood and go to McDonald's for breakfast for him and coffee for me. I cherish the times we have together. We talk, sing and stop to look at other people's front yards (especially flowers since I am so into them now). Last Tuesday when we went to McDonalds I did not have enough money on me and came 43 cents short. I decided not to get my coffee since Aria wanted his breakfast so bad (for the toy of course). I told the young man on the register to cancel the order for the coffee. He looked at me and my son, put his hand in his pocket and took out forty three cents and added it to the register and with a heavy accent said: "It's on my this time."

This small act of kindness made such an impression on me that It changed my entire experience of the walk and carried through the entire day with me.

This morning, Aria and I went for our walk again. When we got to McDonalds, my son recognized the guy and went up to him and thanked him. I went to him and handed him a $50 bill and told him how that small act of kindness made my day.

You never know, maybe my son learned a lesson today.

We had a nice walk back.

Good night.

My Son's Story

In the course of our travels through life it's a commonly accepted fact that the things that bring us the greatest joy can often bring us the most troublesome worries as well. My son, Aria, was born about two months ago, and the great joy my wife and I experienced was matched only by the anxiety we felt when he came down with a strong fever. After a call to the doctor and a recommendation to check into the hospital and some x-rays, we found our son was stricken with a bout of pneumonia. Being only six weeks old at the time, we were terribly frightened about his prospects.

But after some time in the hospital, the doctor explained that we could take him home as long as we take a specific antibiotic to administer to him because he needed it right away. So, we rushed down to the pharmacy to pick up the prescription and be on our way, but as it turned out, they were all out of what we needed. Not one to be deterred, I decided to set out onto the next pharmacy and perhaps they would be able to fill the prescription.

As I was getting ready to leave, however, I notice behind the counter a young woman, perhaps 25 years old. I'll never forget that her name tag said, "Sarah," and before I had a chance to turn around and leave, she asks me, "are you Fariborz?"

Being preoccupied with my son's health, I had no time to discern how she knew this, and at my first impulse replied, "yes."

She then told me that when she was 10, she took karate lessons from me, 14 years ago. After our pasts had connected and my thoughts went back to my son, she asked me what I was there for. I explained the situation and she affirmed that, yes, they were out of that particular medicine, but she offered to call around to other pharmacies to see if they had it in stock.

After a round of phone calls that lasted half an hour, it turned out that every pharmacy in the valley was out of the same medicine, and in my head were echoing the doctor's admonition, "get this medicine to the baby within a couple of hours." Buther meticulous assumption of the task at hand translated into ease for me and my family. It seemed that Sarah had made acquiring the medicine that would save my son her own business and I was thoroughly impressed.

But through her resilience, she paged, and found our doctor and when briefed on the situation at hand, he revised the prescription and gave us a substitute.

We sometimes don't know how effective we're being as martial arts teachers. Perhaps the students learn well, and accomplish their goals, but we are not really aware of the full impact we've had on them. A black belt earned is no indication of how the student will remember his teacher.

But this was one of those moments that I realized how important it is to make sure that each student is given something, some kind of connection with their teacher that they will carry with them and remember for the rest of their lives. If I hadn't made the impression I had on Sarah, I don't know how I would have found the correct medicine for my ailing son in time. But through touching someone 14 years ago in their heart, I ensured that my memory would be recalled with fondness. And even though it took over a decade for that to come back around to me, it did, and it couldn't have been in a more timely manner.

Making a student feel special, and creating a connection is how we, as teachers, create the kind of teaching environment that becomes mutually beneficial. When every student is treated as an individual, learning becomes more than a task, it becomes a symbiosis and a joy for both teacher and student to carry out. So, as each student walks into the school, remember that no other student is like he is, and he will remember that no other teacher is like you.