The Beautiful Sadness

A long time ago, when I first met Master Jang (my Taekwondo master in Seoul) and told him that I had come there to train because I wanted to go to the Olympics, he told me two things.

1) I am proud to teach you.
2) You will know ‘beautiful sadness’.

Being the traditional martial arts master that he is, he said no more than that, and simply left it hanging for me to process in my own way. In my youthful arrogance however, I assumed that I already knew what he meant.

Having had experiences like being forced to drink the water out of a used ashtray, and being locked in a pitch-black hole in the wall where I couldn’t stand up or laydown for several hours on end when I was a kid (long story) I’ve never felt as though I was a stranger to struggle.

At the same time though, having the child-like sense of humor and wonder that I do, as well as a ‘I love-everybody’ attitude, people have always persisted in looking down on me as naïve, ‘ignorant of the world’, easily-hurt and in some cases, just plain stupid. (Given the fact that I finished school with a 3.99 in my last semester and I’m teaching myself 6 different languages at the moment the latter has always amazed me).

When he spoke of the beautiful sadness, this is what I thought he was speaking of; the feeling that most of the people around you may not really know or understand you…(sadness) But that consequently, their lack of understanding also gives you a certain freedom from their criticism. (beautiful). Afterall, if no one around you takes the time to really know, how much can their opinions of you really matter? Not much.

For myself, at the end of the day, being accepted or rejected by most people means about as much to me as whether or not I have the time to take a shower before I go to work. To put it frankly, in other words, 9 times out of 10, I could give a sh-t less. It was this feeling of isolation coupled with social invincibility that I thought he was speaking of.

In the past 10 years of life however, as I’ve grown older, and gained experience in chasing this dream, I’ve come to realize that that is only one type of ‘beautiful sadness’. … And that what he was speaking of was another.

The beautiful sadness he was referring to doesn’t stem from that type of situation at all- it stems from sacrifice. In particular, the sacrifice that it takes to be the best at something.

As a former Korean ROC marine, and a graduate of one of the top taekwondo programs in the world, he knew full well the pain of pushing the human body past the limits of what it was physically meant to do… and the empowerment that comes from proving time and time again that your mind and will are both 100 times stronger than your body ever will be.

He knew full well the loneliness of dedicating so much of your time and energy to training that it was impossible to maintain relationships (or sometimes even friendships)… but also the fact that you develop amazing life-long bonds with those who are patient enough to come to understand.

He knew full well the desolation of failing 1000 times over… but also the insurmountable drive that develops to always pick yourself up one more time that life can ever knock you down.

The beautiful sadness he was speaking of, was the personal loss of self that comes from giving yourself to an ideal, but the strength that comes from realizing that it was always the ideal that mattered most anyway.