Find out what it means to me

A slight change of tack today.

There are times when someone admits to themselves, “Well, fuck me. I’ve been wrong all this time”. Today, the person undergoing this WFM moment is I.

Respect is earned. I doubt there is anyone out there who would disagree with that statement. But for some time now, it was my belief that whilst many would preach respect, none would actually value the word. Respect was a façade, a mural displayed until an individual’s goals or aspirations were impeded, in which case tactics involving cloaks and daggers were employed.

Hence, disrespect is shown. I had seen this happen often enough to believe that the word respect was an antiquated notion.

This opinion of mine stood until last night, when I attended a formal dinner to celebrate the birthday of the 34th Soke (Grand Master), Masaaki Hatsumi. But it wasn’t the man being honoured that caused my opinion to sway.

It was the Shihan (Master Instructor). He is an imposing figure, seemingly standing an extra two feet over my wiry, six foot frame; his stature and build a testament to his life of discipline and training. But, as intimidating as this man appears, it is not a sense of wonder that causes everyone around him to bend and hang on his every word. Whenever he stood or spoke, everyone would turn to him and the overall feeling in the room would become one of total and complete respect. No one dared interrupt him, no one stood in his way. Glasses were raised, and ovations were given at the mention of his name. Even when he uttered a quip that was only slightly amusing, the room would burst out with belly laughs you would associate with the wit and genius of Oscar Wilde.

It is difficult to place an exact reason why, but the fact remains that this man is just so damn respectable. It seems somewhat derisory to suggest that this respectability stems from some “gift” that he holds – in that some people are respectable, and other’s aren’t – but I think that it is a factor, compounded by the amount of sacrifice, hard work and effort that he has made to further his art in our country.

That, and maybe the knowledge that he could snap you like a dead tree branch if he ever felt the need.

It is amazing what an effect that respect has on people, when it is valued. Respected people have this magnetism about them that draws people in. People are always courteous, perhaps hoping that to show some measure of respect will somehow return a similar amount of “Respect Reciprocation”. I must admit to being one of these people. In retrospect I hate the fact that I was so easily manipulated by such a rudimentary sense of awe, but I don’t think that it was something that I could willingly control and overcome. I was an unaware puppet of an involuntary puppet master.

It has been said that when Bill Clinton speaks to you personally, a certain sense of warmth exudes from him, as though you are the only person on earth. I think this is similar to the “gift” I wrote about earlier.

Perhaps some of it resides in the powerlessness you feel around these people. No matter what phrase comes out of your mouth; it somehow insults their obviously superior intelligence. No matter what tale you regale, it pales in comparison to what they’ve achieved over their life. No matter how good you are at the subject they teach, your ability will never surpass theirs.

Anyway, going back to my main point. I no longer think that respect is an antiquated notion. I now know that no amount of showing other people respect is going to earn any respect – in fact quite the opposite. Yes, respect must be earned, but not through trying to impress other people. In order to be respected, hard work is required. Hard work at a passion; an individual passion. Doing hard work for others is pointless, as generosity is often taken for granted, and soon becomes an expected practice.

I am saddened to think that it has taken me 26 years to find this out.

Furthermore, I am saddened by my belief that in order to be respected, I must have enough ability to win awards and travel the world on someone else’s dollar/yen/lira, like the Shihan outlined in this entry.

Either that, or I must become “Leader of the Free World”.

Ultimately I am saddened by the fact that a simple handshake with one man has inspired a 700-odd word gush, emphasising the fact that I am an involuntary marionette at the beck and call of anyone with this theoretical gift.

And if does come down to this “gift”, then perhaps some of us will have to accept that true respect is something that is, and will always be, just that little bit out of reach.