The Mr Ben box.

Forgive me Shihan for I have lapsed. It has been 9 weeks since my last training session. This sounds like a confession and it is, only I can't fix this with three hail Mary's and a hows your father.

It has been that long since I last trained that I am really feeling the frustration. I have been playing ball with Hettie in the garden and trying to sneak it away from her with slight of hand, picking up a rake and breaking into bo katas in the middle of gardening, and diving over obstacles in the garden and on the beach, rolling around like an idiot. I really should go back.

It is all too easy to find excuses not to,which is the trap a lot of people fall into. They train for six months to a year, then don't go because they have to work, then that turns into a football match on the telly, then they are low on petrol, then they have promised their daughter to spend some more time with her, homework, parents evenings, more work commitments....I say 'they', I actually mean I, as in me.

I looked at the collection in my 'Mr Ben' box yesterday. Mr Ben, for those of you who don't know was a cartoon from the 70's and 80's – the heyday of children's TV. He visited a fancy dress shop in each episode, had a magical adventure with each outfit he tried on, and went home with a souvenir at the end.

                                             This is Mr Ben, not me.

So far my personal Mr Ben box of souvenirs has an aikido outfit, a kendo jacket and hakama, an italian foil, and a pair of well worn football boots. I will not add my tabi to that list.

 

         My tabi, not yet in the Mr Ben box.

My sensei keeps asking if I am coming out to play this week. 

Next time I will say yes.