Stillness Notes

8/2/2019 Stillness Notes

1/6

Stillness Notes 24 April 2012, Reginald L. Goodwin

Page 1

The news from my former student/friend hit like a punch to the gut he was going to the Masters

clinic, and I obviously was not. It was ironically at the same time Id left trying to sell security systems

door-to-door to teach mathematics in high school: Id taken and passed a test qualifying me to teach

both math and physics my degree was Engineering Physics and my experience had been in the

semiconductor industry. It was my announced triumph, getting back to what Id trained and felt I

could make a meaningful contribution with my unique skillsets. I was in recovery from lay off six years

before, self-published Unemployed: A Memoir, and had a brief stint in graduate Astrophysics at UT

Austin and working for a stochastic modeling firm for the defense industry. A triumphtrumped and

diminished in an instant. My triumph was translated in nanoseconds to something entirely different;

dark.

He pulled me to the side, in respect of me and the announcement that was coming from his martial arts

school. The school that was offered me at the YMCA when I was trying to run a full-time, high rent

operation 15 minutes from our present location. I was in an exorbitant leasing agreement at the time of

the offering, and hed just put on 3rd

Dan after Id prepared him for passing the rigor of the test. Hed

been with me from his Orange Belt to his first Black Belt. And he, not me, was going to the Mastersclinic.

Congratulations, I said. I really meant it. During his college years, hed been like a son to me, and his

family had been nothing but gracious to me. To an extent, I was going with him, even though I would nt

be there physically.

I suddenly realized I had another obligation: Pre-Calculus homework for my son who was playing

basketball and a senior in high school. He needed me. And my former student/Masters candidate

allowed me the grace to depart before the announcement of his promotion, and my debasement.

That last statement sounds harsh: it was meant to be. For me, Id sacrificed a lot for the martial artsorganization Id been a member of, participated in, promoted through and contributed time, talents and

treasures at least I got a tax write-off.

That summer, Id made a faux pas at a tournament that resulted in the final tally being recalculated; I

guess Id done the last offense as far as headquarters was concerned.

So, I became The Invisible Man, a morphological mutant of H.G. Wells and Ralph Ellisons title

creations, opaque as the former; powerless as the latter.

That day, was the last day I practiced forms, one-steps, self-defense and Korean weaponry.

When I told my family, it hurt me to the deepest core of my being. My wife had quietly retreated from

activities with the organization during the period of my own third Dan testing. Her expression was shock

and resign to the facts as I pronounced them. I had been tasked to test for Third Dan three times. At the

time, my father was suffering from lung cancer. I was traveling between Texas and North Carolina. If

love could have saved him, I gave above an overflowing cups measure. Losing my first martial a rts

instructor a US Navy boxer affected me; him leaving my mother a widow affected me more than I


2/6


Page 2

was willing to admit. I had to retreat, mentally and spiritually regroup, decide to test not only for myself

but a representative of him and my grandfather a sharecropper and former slave, and my great-

grandfather freed in 1865 and the first to wear our family adopted/christened name. I found other

families from the plantation in South Carolina that bear the name, but we are not blood relatives: we

just shared the same former master. Nanos Gigantium Humerous Incidentes I stood on the shoulders

of giants. I wrote an essay, The Last Boxing Lesson that was received quite well at the time.

But now, I could not bring myself to rehearse patterns, philosophies or dogmas. My wifes expression

was of profound hurt tears welled in her eyes, and this infuriated me! Tears from the many nights Id

taught, the many weekends Id attended seminars, took black belt candidates to pretests and final

examinations. The many summers our vacations were subordinated by my elderly parents health and

this organization that now seemed like an Ashtaroth pole I had erected in my life. My sons were

profoundly disappointed; felt their hero had been dethroned, I tried to be there for them as black men

as my father; their grandfather had been there for me. It validated their own quiet retreats from

martial activities before this incident, this show of disrespect to their paternal pattern. Any workouts I

did were haphazard at best: Any classes I taught half-hearted, dwindling in size in direct proportion ofmy self-esteem.

Before my lay off in 2003, Id noticed something about being in a corporate environment: I had a

collection of T-shirts, jackets, even tennis shoes with the factory and company logo. I was a walking,

talking advertisement. After my lay off, I quickly got rid of the labels, the logos, the advertisements that

tied me to a corpus a body that consumed me.

Now, I was free. Released with a severance package: half of which Id receive if I chose to sue/contest

my separation, my medical coverage directly proportional to the same. I poured myself into teaching

full-time martial arts, picking up after-school children, summer camps; self-defense seminars. But

something was wrong I wasnt successful, even to the measure of my teachers or former students

(another from India that is far more successful than II so much as told him hed be).

Before this midsection strike to my psyche (others would come three more that by time in grade I

outranked I compared these to a second midsection, followed by a forehand and backhand slap,

respectively): I endured a particularly disrespectful practice of patting my head; Madam Grishom s

lessons from high school came back to mind:pauvre petite (poor little thing). The directors of my martial

arts region were the progenitors of this practice, they likened my new hair fashion bald to another

African American Master that was highly respected. I hence thought I was being respected, likened to

this Master instructor with whom Id shared heritage. My reason for self-inflicted baldness was twofold:

1) vanity, I had a portion of my hair that was obviously not coming back; 2) reverence, in certain African

countries Nigeria comes to mind the shaved head is a means of mourning the dead. I was mourning

the loss of my father; and continue the practice at the loss of my mother. I was never recognized as a

regional instructor of the year, as were each candidate that was elevated to the Masters clinic, as I

dont think neither were so respected with a pat on theirrespective (and respected) heads pauvre

petite.


3/6


Page 3

However, as we were all students of Asian martial arts, we were de facto students of Asian culture. I

researched this from Wikipedia in reference to Vietnamese etiquette:

Do not touch the heads of others, especially the elderly, for this is where our spiritlies.

In respect to my own wounded spirit, I removed all vestiges of my affiliation T-shirts, jackets, plaques,

uniforms, dress blues, books. I kept my weapons Japanese, Indian and Filipino (not Korean) and a

faded, ancient-looking black belt with three stripes falling off it this was a testament to the effort,

dedication and fidelity Id given but did not receive reciprocally.

For my own self-esteem, for my own human soul, I neededto do this.

To a large extent, this slight freed me once again. To be selected fo r the Masters clinic is to be frozen in

place: whatever goals, dreams and aspirations outside of this corpus/body are now subverted to the

goal of building another organizationmoonlighting with literal sweat equity investment.

I interviewed for Cree Semiconductor in Durham, NC. I immediately looked into the closest studio in the

martial arts organization 30 minutes from the front door of the plant. I did not get hired. That was a

colossal disappointment, but it is strange that my attitude was not just the reboot of my tech career: I

Google mapped how far it was to the closest studio, and how soon I could reboot my martial affiliations

as well. A maxim I recalled in the back of my mind no man can serve two masters.

As I did with my lay off, I went inside, deeper, on my knees. Strangely, I started blogging about physics.

It had never occurred to me to do such a thing. I thought: what will people think? I dont have a

PhD.No one will follow/read what I have to say. I did an online survey that compared colors least

to most liked colors to possible criteria of future career options for the individual. It wasnt like

Muhammad Ali (formerly Cassius Clay) yelling to a beaten Sonny Liston: whats my name? It was me,

at midlife asking God who am I?Would I ever be my wife and my sons hero again?

Answers are of times blunt, bold and obvious:


4/6


Page 4

http://www.physics4thecool.com/2010/07/nosce-te-ipsum.html

So, the question I had to ask myself was: was I ever meant for this path? My attraction had been a

primitive need to learn basic defensive skills. I grew up in a neighborhood in Winston-Salem, NC that in

2010 was ranked 16/25 of the most dangerous in America: I ordered my first Pizza from Mr. Gattis in

Austin, Texas at 23 prior to that, I had no experience in doing so. My Saturday nights in North Carolina

were spent seeing who got shot or stabbed for sometimes things as trivial as cheating on a card game:

death over five cents! In the fifth grade, Id had a switchblade pulled on me from a brother that thought

I was trying to harm his sister (she d sadly, been raped; I understood, but Im not that kind of guy). An

adult pulled a kitchen hatchet on my best friend and me: Primitive and practical needs to fulfill.

Barefoot, expert in martial arts those are technical skills one can acquire with reasonable athleticism

and understanding of technique. The whole time I worked at the security company, hanging flyers on

doors, cold-calling I hated selling! (Not a good attitude when youre living on co mmission.) Essentially,

that is what a martial artist is: a salesperson , especially one thats fulltime at it. Through a combination

of their personal relationship skills, technical skill, leadership qualities and admirable traits others want

to emulate, they attract a following and a student base that will stick with them as they recruit others,

financially imperative if you want to survive and/or make a living essentially selling fear of a possible
http://www.physics4thecool.com/2010/07/nosce-te-ipsum.htmlhttp://www.dailyfinance.com/blog/2010/10/04/25-most-dangerous-neighborhoods-2010/http://www.dailyfinance.com/blog/2010/10/04/25-most-dangerous-neighborhoods-2010/http://www.dailyfinance.com/blog/2010/10/04/25-most-dangerous-neighborhoods-2010/http://www.physics4thecool.com/2010/07/nosce-te-ipsum.html


5/6


Page 5

assault and the health benefits of training oneself to ward off such an assault. You must assuredly sell

your style/system/philosophy as the ultimate, which unfortunately one with an appreciation for

Einstein and quantum mechanics, its all relative.

Part of me wanted to be angry. For now, what was I to do with this information? Within myself, I was

calmed by a verse that Moses (also my grandfathers sir name) was given at the Sea of Reeds:

Be still, and know that I AM GOD.

So, I made my own quiet exit, stating by email to the director I was going to focus on pursuing a

doctorate in physics. I did not know how I would accomplish this, having withdrawn from the

Astrophysics PhD at UT. I enjoyed the mathematics, but hadn t the passion for my experiment being

light years away; centuries in the past.

I was at my second high school, a floater: moving from class to class with the bell with the students.

When a meeting with the superintendent stated that due to the budget cuts, we d be losing personnel.

He promised without qualification that the first cuts would be from administration. Yet, I was afloater, meaning no home classroom, an overage.

I made the best of a bad situation. After eight years, I was used to taking lemons and making sour

lemonade. Tutoring for the state standardized test; teaching an eclectic form of martial arts after school

a blend of ancient and modern I called by Q.E.D.: Quick, Effective, Decisive (a double entendre with

quod erat demonstrandum that which was to be shown). But frankly, I was merely going through the

motions, I merely existed, not lived a life.

Have you thought about getting back into semiconductors?

That was the question. Simple; direct: matter-of-fact. The email from LinkedIn stared at me from myinbox. Id logged in after the staff meeting with the superintendent. I assumed Id be let go at the end of

the year. I mentally prepared for once again: unemployment and food stamp debit cards. How could I

answer this in the negative? It was a message from Gabriel to Zachariah, and I was notmocking!

My last day: April 1st

2011. It was a Friday. Some of the kids thought I was playing an April Fools Joke.

No, I would be gone, and the outpouring of affection was overwhelming, touching.

Due to my youngest sons freshman year in college, my oldest sons deployment date to the US Army,

and my wifes occupation as sales rep for a builder, I plunged into the unknown from Bergstrom to JFK

accompanied by a Labrador retriever and a Texas Box Turtle. My nights were taken up with blogging, my

days learning how to be an Operations Manager of engineers: not being an engineer, but managing the

performance of them. My experience in high school managing a classroom had some benefits to this

new endeavor.

The church we joined Bethel Missionary Baptist Church welcomed me initially, and my family. We

were loved, pastored and accepted healing, this Balm of Gilead. A Deacon said to me: the Lord has

brought you here for a purpose. I thought he was being poetic. But, as I stood on April 21st

on a
http://www.bethelwappingersfalls.org/http://www.bethelwappingersfalls.org/http://www.bethelwappingersfalls.org/http://www.bethelwappingersfalls.org/


6/6


Page 6

Saturday, teaching Why Not S.T.E.M.? (Science, Technology, Engineering, Math) to thirty-one K 12

students more enthusiastic about electronics than they thought they d ever be, not just a Masters and

PhD for self and country, Id found my purpose. Long term, Id like to see them compete inUSFirst.org:

Vision Statement

"To transform our culture by creating a world where science and technology are celebrated andwhere youngpeople dream of becoming science and technology leaders."

Dean Kamen, Founder (inventor of the Segway)

Mission

Our mission is to inspire young people to be science and technology leaders, by engaging them in exciting mentor-

based programs that build science, engineering and technology skills, that inspire innovation, and that foster well-

rounded life capabilities including self-confidence, communication, and leadership.

The Ashtaroth pole of a Masters belt paled in comparison. Id found my mission; my warrior ethos, my

impact on youth that went beyond tying belts around myriad waists.

I am Christian: not a Taoist or Buddhist. I do appreciate poetry, and poetry is what I end this essay with,

finding myself miles away from Texas to New York, placing my faith in the substance of things hoped

for; the evidence of things not seen:

Tao Te Ching (Chapter 16, DC Laus translationCenterTao.org)

I do my utmost to attain emptiness;

I hold firmly to stillness.

The myriad creatures all rise together

And I watch their return.

The teaming creatures

All return to their separate roots.

Returning to ones roots is known as stillness.

This is what is meant by returning to ones destiny.

Returning to ones destiny is known as the constant.

Knowledge of the constant is known as discernment.

Woe to him who willfully innovates

While ignorant of the constant,

But should one act from knowledge of the constant

Ones action will lead to impartiality,

Impartiality to kingliness,

Kingliness to heaven,

Heaven to the way,

The way to perpetuity,

And to the end of ones days one will meet with no danger.
http://www.usfirst.org/http://www.usfirst.org/http://www.usfirst.org/http://www.centertao.org/tao-te-ching/dc-lau/http://www.centertao.org/tao-te-ching/dc-lau/http://www.centertao.org/tao-te-ching/dc-lau/http://www.centertao.org/tao-te-ching/dc-lau/http://www.usfirst.org/

Stillness Notes

Documents

Transcript of Stillness Notes