Boredumb

Free time can be a funny thing. No matter how much we have, we are often left wanting more, but when we have too much we run the risk of getting bored.

Earlier this week I quipped on Facebook about finally having enough free time to get bored. The past month has been quite a whirlwind of activity. It seems like I’ve have one thing after another since the second week of August.

First there was the extra-long work week (10 days, with a close/open shift in the middle); my work schedule is such that I don’t really have any consistent days off, (especially not weekends). Then there was my trip to Los Angeles. Then there was Labor Day weekend, of course filled with an SCA event (I did have fun, to tell the truth). Then my mom, who I hadn’t seen for more than a year, flew into town (don’t worry Mom, I enjoyed seeing you). And then it all culminated last weekend with Crown Tournament. Of course, any scrap of free time seemed to be taken up by preparing for events (especially Crown) or people being in/out of town.

But by this week I was finally in the clear. There were no big events on the horizon (not for a few months, at least), and there was nothing else to do besides attend to the small things that piled up during the mad rush. But those could wait. I decided I needed a mental health break.

So Wednesday was my first full day off in what seemed like quite a while. As was fitting, I did a whole lot of nothing (having short work days on Monday and Tuesday also helped). And yes, I did get bored. But it was kind of nice, a change of pace from having to steal moments of relaxation at the expense of productivity. For a while, I reveled in my boredom.

But as the day drew to a close, I started to think about having to go back to work, and how I would soon have to take care of things like laundry and dishes. I thought about all the video games I would have liked to try, that would have to wait. Even though I had almost a full day to myself, I wanted more time.

I suppose that’s our lot in life, though, to be dissatisfied with what we have until it’s almost gone. Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier, of course, and the drive to slack off wasn’t enough to keep me from fighter practice (as usual, I knew I would have fun once I got there) or from writing a post (even though I had a buffer). I just lament the fact that there’s more I wanted to do, but am going to have to wait (not that long, probably) to experience. It’s silly.

But so it goes, I guess.

Punching Trees Gives Me Wood: Settling In

Well, it’s been a bit longer than I would have liked since my last installment. I hope I haven’t lost the thread. It may end up being like starting over, but let’s soldier on anyway.  I’d like to have this series go up at least once a week, but I promise nothing.

You have survived your first night in this strange land, but you still have no idea where you are. You are surrounded by hills, but they are nowhere near undulating. Rather, they seem terraced, a series of one meter cubes stacked one on top of the other. Even the trees and the leaves are cubic.

You look behind you at your feeble shelter from the night before. In the daylight it looks more like a tomb, enclosing only enough space for you to stand up and move around slightly. You’re sure you can do better.

Looking around, you spy a slightly higher hill to the east. You work your way up to the top, having to hop up from one terrace level to the next. Luckily, this repetitive jumping doesn’t seem to leave you overly tired. Once you reach the summit you find a flat spot with a few trees. Without hesitation you start in on the trees, punching them until logs (one meter cubes, of course) fall into your hands. You clear out the bottom of the trees first, punching straight up from the hollow spot and effectively coring the tree. The leaves stay suspended after the trunk is gone, but quickly begin to fade. Some drop things as they disappear. You end up holding an apple and what appear to be a few saplings.

You get ready to start building house out of your logs when you stop. There must be a better way to use these resources. You close your eyes to think, and can practically see a small grid in front of your eyes. Great, even your imagination has been squared off. But this gives you an idea: you visualize one of your logs on the grid. It changes, breaking into a set of wooded planks. The vision is so strong that you can’t help but reach out your hand to the planks, and when you open your eyes, you are holding them in front of your face.

You don’t know what you just did, but it sure is useful. It looks like your resources will stretch much farther if you craft them, so you go about doing so. Logs quickly become planks, and before too long (the sun is still high, but has started its downward arc) you have created something resembling a house, complete with four walls, a roof, and even a plywood floor. It’s practically cozy.

You have some planks left over, and you can’t help but feel there’s even more you could be creating. You close your eyes again, and the grid returns easily enough. But you notice it’s only got four spots, in a 2 by 2 layout. Maybe that’s what’s limiting you. Is there any way you could expand the grid? You tug on it with your mind, but all you succeed in doing is giving yourself the start of what could be a very bad headache.

On a whim, you visualize four stacks of planks (in one meter cubes, of course) on the grid. Sure enough, this gets you a result: a crafting table! You open your eyes and place it in a corner of your shack. Looking closely, you can see a small grid inlaid on the surface, but this one has nine slots. The possibilities are endless!.

You quickly get to work with this new grid, trying combinations in an almost random fashion. The dirt blocks you have don’t seem to be of any use, but wood is proving to be quite useful. And the more you experiment, the more you come to get a feel for the logic of crafting. Things seem to be roughly visual: you can use the grid to visualize a rough approximation of the object you desire. Sticks are the result of stacking two planks into a stick shape. A door is crafted using six wood plank blocks laid out in the shape of a door.

You can even craft tools. By the time the sun sets, you have managed to craft yourself a wooden sword, pickaxe, shovel, and axe. You are sure your knuckles, square as they may be, will thank you in the long run.

But the moon is rising in the east, and you can already hear the monsters stirring. You pass the night experimenting with more crafting recipes, although it gets hard to see in the dark. You decide: first thing tomorrow, you’re going to go looking for a light.

Post-Crown Thoughts: Conclusion

What started as one recap post finally draws to a close today. I’ve also written about my first and second rounds in Crown, as well as the Warlord tourney the next day.

So what did I learn this past weekend? I didn’t perform as well as I had hoped in Crown, but I think the lessons were well worth the effort.

I learned that I still have trouble getting into the right mindset from a cold start. I got a clear example of the mindset I need to cultivate for fighting, the goal at the end of the Axesperiment. I learned that even if you don’t get the tangible rewards you expected, you can still come out ahead in the end (just not in the way you thought you would). I learned that while it can be intimidating to be noticed by higher-ups, it can be nice to know that you’re on the right path. I learned that the people who tell me I’m a good fighter may actually know what they’re talking about.

So all in all, the weekend was a great experience. I was feeling bummed about my first round performance in Crown, but the more I think about it the less upset I get. As long as I learn something, it wasn’t wasted time. Besides, how can you feel bad losing to someone who has been fighting for longer than you’ve been alive, and is still at it? You’d have to be pretty wily to get that far: age/treachery vs. youth/skill, and all that. I am also glad that I made it back out on Sunday for the Warlord tournament. Given the long stretch of one thing after another it took to get to Crown, I wasn’t sure if I would just need a day off. But my knight suggested I fight in Warlord, and by Jove I’m glad I did.

It’s odd: usually I’m not too keen on fighting in tournaments, let alone winning them. But my experience this past weekend has let me motivated rather than discouraged. I’m even considering driving down to the Crown Tournament in March if I can get the time off work (and my girlfriend will put up with it). Sure, I went out in two, but my second round fight gave me a glimmer of what my future could hold.

So thanks to all the people who made this weekend possible, from my friends who processed with us, to my girlfriend who sacrificed many an hour of downtime to make us both presentable. From my knight who encouraged me to fight, to all the fighters I faced, win or lose. It was a great experience, and one I wouldn’t trade for the world.

Here’s hoping it’s less than four years until I get to do it again.

Post-Crown Thoughts: Sunday

Here are my thoughts on the second tourney from this past weekend. Parts 1 and 2 are here and here, respectively.

As is usually the case with Crown, there are also tournaments on Sunday. These tournaments determine the new Warlord (heavy fighting) as well as the Princess Protector (fencing). Unfortunately, the sunny respite of the day before was long gone, and most of the day alternated between a light drizzle and a persistent rain. As such, only sixteen fencers and ten fighters came out (at least three knights, the rest unbelted). I briefly considered fighting in both tournaments, but I decided to focus on heavy fighting for the weekend and fought in the Warlord tournament. I ended up being glad I did.

The tournament ended up being a modified Swiss Five format, with each round being a single fight with a different weapon style. One of the benefits of this style is everyone gets plenty of fighting in, as you get to fight in all the rounds regardless of whether you win or lose. If I recall, the order went like this:

  1. Sword and shield
  2. Two weapons
  3. Glaive
  4. Greatsword
  5. 6-foot spear
  6. Single sword
  7. Two swords
  8. Greataxe

After that, the top four contestants with the most wins would fight in a short single-elimination, two-out-of-three tournament to determine the winner. This format was designed to make sure that the winner was proficient with all weapon styles, as is befitting a warlord.

Now, having the rounds be single fight changes things. Someone can get a lucky shot in and the fight will be over. As such, I found myself being much more cautious, timing my shots carefully to avoid unduly exposing myself to harm. The fight became more of a chess match than an arm wrestle.

Luckily the mindset from my second round the day before came back relatively easily. My first round was against a young left-handed knight, and I surprised myself by winning (even if it cost me my legs). My second round went less well; I hardly ever fight with two swords, and I was unable to get into a rhythm. The third round I managed to win, even after both of us lost an arm; it’s hard to use a polearm as tall as you with one hand, let me tell you. In the fourth round, I was finally able to get the bastard sword fight I wanted the day before, even though it wasn’t with the same duke. Being as it’s one of my favorite styles, I won. My single sword fight was another one I was worried about, as I was facing another knight, and since your offense and defense are concentrated in the same weapon, crazy stuff can happen. I managed to take his primary arm, and then his body. My second round with two swords proved that I should probably spend more time with the style; while I was able to get into a groove, my opponent was just more experienced than I was. The greataxe round went well for me as well; while I hardly ever use two-handed axes (or axes of any kind), it was similar enough to a glaive or greatsword that I did alright. Not wanting to be hit by a big guy with a big axe was also a wonderful motivator.

If you’ve been keeping track, you’ll notice that put me with six wins. I wasn’t keeping track that day, so I was fairly surprised to end up in the final four. That doesn’t happen to me very often, although I may not be able to accurately gauge my own skill. Usually I’m happy to go a couple, forgettable rounds, but today ended up different. I had made it to the semifinals, which meant the king would be watching my final fights. There was also the real possibility that I could win the tournament. No pressure.

The first fight of the round went poorly: I died quick and fast, and felt like a chump. Just my luck, I thought, I make it this far just to have my visible performance be forgettable. Luckily the second round went better: we both lost an arm (his left, my right), but I was able to duck past his buttspike thrust to punch him in the face with my blade. That one got some cheers. The third fight was a good one, but he ended up cleaving my face in half from the side.

So while I didn’t win, I’m happy with how I performed. I even had a knight (who had been watching the whole time, in the rain) tell me my fighting looked good. That made me happy: after all, even if I didn’t win, I had hoped to make an impression.

Stay tuned for my final thoughts!

Post-Crown Thoughts: Round 2

These are my continued thoughts on my recent experience fighting in Crown Tournament. Read the first part here.

For the second round, the tournament moved back to a more standard random draw. But as is too often the case with a random draw, you can end up driving hundreds of miles to fight the same people you fight every week at practice. While luckily there wasn’t much of a drive, this proved to be the case with me.

For the second round, I had to fight my knight.

While we don’t fight every week at practice, we fight quite a bit. He’s also the one that has been training me, helping to find the mindset needed to be truly dangerous. In other words: he knew my tricks, I knew some of his, and I didn’t want to let him down by giving him a mediocre fight, even if I lost.

Luckily, I was able to find whatever I had been missing that first round. I felt much more focused. Everything outside the fight faded into the background, while my opponent stood before me in sharp relief. I can still remember the feeling, although it’s hard to put into words. If you’ve ever done competition, you probably know what I’m talking about. There is a calm, but it is focused and energized, not lethargic. Your mind is curiously blank, but you are reacting faster than you would be able to think. You are, as corny as it sounds, In The Zone.

I felt much better during these fights. In fact, I was even able to kill my knight with a quick thrust to the eye. He didn’t let me do it twice (as well he shouldn’t), but I feel like I made him work for his two other victories. In the second and third fight he ended up legging me, forcing me to fight from my knees. And while I did end up losing, he got me with a different shot each time (which tends to make me feel good, and means that I’m probably not doing something egregiously stupid).

I can still remember the laser focus I felt during those fights. If nothing else, fighting in Crown provided me a chance to really experience that mindset. I was fighting near the top level of what I could achieve, not dialing down or playing around as is too often the case at practice. I will hold on to that place in my mind, and now that I know where it is, hopefully it will be that much easier to find in the future. I’m already looking forward to practice this week to see if I can find it again.

So that was my Crown adventure. While I was out in two rounds, I won at least one of my bouts. I was hoping to be able to go three rounds (meaning at least two wins), but alas. Oddly, this was pretty much my performance the first time I fought in Crown four years ago: head not right for the first round, but took the second round to three fights. Like I said, though, it was a great learning opportunity, and rather than discourage me it’s made me look forward to the next chance. I’m even considering entering the Spring Crown, which would be held about seven hours to the southwest in March. Not as convenient as 45 minutes east, obviously, but better than waiting an entire year to try again.

I think I may have caught the bug.

Post-Crown Thoughts: Round 1

So my long, arduous trek that has been grinding me down since early August has finally drawn to a close. I even had a short day at work today, and spent most of the afternoon watching Doctor Who. The evening is likely to consist of more of the same, or possibly some Minecraft. And yes, me and mine are all safe and dry.

But I wanted to talk about Crown Tournament, in an attempt to debrief and to sort out my thoughts on the matter. I’m going to break this recap up into a few posts, covering my first round, the second, as well as the Warlord tourney on Sunday (in the rain!).

Continue reading →

I’m Okay…

…or at least I will be.

If you’ve been following my blog recently (which is likely, if you’re reading this), you may have noticed a somewhat darker trend to my writings. The thing is, I haven’t had much down time lately. It’s basically been one thing after another since early August straight through this weekend. Requesting weekends off has a nasty habit of creating long work “weeks” (this past one being eight days long, one before that being eleven). I haven’t been getting much sleep, or as much spoon-regeneration time as I’d like (or need). I’ve been working a lot, then coming home to work on projects fro my hobbies. This does not tend to have the best effect on one’s psyche.

But the end is in sight. After this weekend, I will have more free time, and there isn’t really anything pressing on the horizon that isn’t at least a few months off. I hope to catch up on sleep, slack off a bit without feeling guilty, and start clawing my way back to my usual cheery(?) self.

I’m sorry if my posts recently have worried you, but they are indeed a reflection of the places my mind can go. I don’t talk about them much, and even then only to a select few. I tend to keep my problems to myself, and this can result in things appearing better than they often are. That may not be the most comforting, I know, but this state of mind is not a first for me. I’ve gone into and come out of many Funks so far, and will likely continue to do so.

So I hope in the near future to be able to provide you with more lighthearted insights and, dare I say, entertainment. Thanks for sticking around as the Drama Llama stampeded through my life.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!1!!11!!!ONE!!

This here is my Drama Llama. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

Impostor Syndrome

I mentioned this earlier, but in case you couldn’t tell, I have a few issues. Neuroses, if you will. Psychological hangups that are a quiet but ever-present part of quotidian life inside my head. For example: I have trouble seeing my accomplishments for what they are, tooting my own horn (literally and figuratively), and claiming the confidence which should be my right through long work and experience.

I’m talking about feeling like an impostor.

Continue reading →

Pre-Crown Thoughts

Fatigue has gotten me into a rut. When you’re stressed, it doesn’t take much energy to write about how stressed you are. But I worry that I start to sound like a broken record. So today I’m going to make a conscious effort to try and write about something else.

This weekend, I’m going to be fighting in Crown Tournament, the most prestigious tournament in my local SCA kingdom. Every six months, we determine who, by right of arms, is to be our next king and queen. As such, the tournament attracts all sorts of fighters, from the big names and big sticks to young (and sometimes not-so-young) up-and-comers looking to get seen and make a name for themselves.

I am one of the latter group. I have been fighting in the SCA for about ten years now, and have done relatively well at the local level; I was Warlord of the local Barony, and do relatively well at practices. One of my proudest moments was coming in third in an unbelted (non-knight) tourney a few years ago at Battlemoor (a big end-of-summer camping event). My only losses were to the fighters who got first and second place; can’t be upset with that.  Or this past Battlemoor, when I was the last non-knight in a six-foot spear tourney.

However, due to my relatively shy and retiring nature, I don’t get out much. I’m not exactly the type of person to go strike up a conversation with someone I don’t know. Due to time and money constraints, I don’t travel to other parts of the kingdom as much as I might. As such, I find it likely that the knights and other fighters might not know who I am. I’ve come out of my shell a lot since joining the SCA, but the shell is still there.

This is part of what the Axesperiment is about, finding ways to get over those last few hurdles, those last few plateaus on the path to success. I like to think that years of martial arts experience (both in the SCA and through Taekwondo) have left me with a good physical base. For me, these last few hurdles seem to be largely mental. Besides, I’ve fought in crown before; even though it many ways it’s a big deal, in others it’s just another tournament.

Crown can be a great place to gain that visibility. Since it results in the (eventual) crowning of our next king and queen, a lot of people will be there, both fighting and watching. It’s a great chance to make a good impression on a lot of important people. Although it is always a possibility, it is not likely that I will win. There will be bigger, faster, more experienced fighters out on the field. But that’s always likely to be the case. So when I fight this Saturday, I will be there to be seen. I will strive to make my lady and my knight proud. I will do my best, as that is all we can ever do.

The Funk

One of the biggest problems with self-loathing and The Funk is how invisible it can be, at least for me. The suffering is pretty much all internal, a result of my own brain playing over things that would likely be best forgotten (not because they are bad, but because, in the long run, they are of no consequence). Compounding the issue is the fact that I, like many others, reflexively put on a cheery face, a mask if you will, that makes everything appear okay.

I don’t even think about it most of the time. Whether that’s because of my innate desire to not rock the boat (likely) or part of a larger social stigma against mental issues (also likely), I’m not sure. One of the problems with spending too much time in your own brain is the tendency to think of everything in terms of your actions, to forget outside influences. After all, what if there is something wrong with you? Are you over-reacting, or do you on some level deserve to reap what you have sown?

The Funk is dangerous because it is so sneaky. It is usually the case that I don’t realize I’ve fallen into one until I’m on my way out. As such, it can be hard to avoid The Funk until it’s too late. The fact that there are many triggers doesn’t help either. These can include stress, lack of sleep, bad news, et cetera. I like to think I’m getting better reading the signs, but that hasn’t yet helped me stop the process. I still have to ride it out, which is more difficult when you have things you need to do. Welcome to being an adult, I guess.

It reminds me of when I spent my year in Paris in college. I moved in during the height of summer, around July or August. At that point, the city is relatively quiet, as a lot of Parisians beat the heat by going out to the country. But of course, the weather didn’t last. Autumn was beautiful, with the trees in the parks turning colors. But Parisian winters are not like Colorado winters. They are damp, dreary, and gray. I don’t know about you, but when I don’t have adequate natural light I tend to get sad. But because the shift was so subtle, I didn’t even notice it until March, when the sun finally came back out. I walked out onto my balcony in the early morning, and my first thoughts were literally “Oh my god, I feel human again!” The Funk had slinked in, but was banished by the coming of the dawn.

So it’s not all doom and gloom, I guess. Even if I can’t yet avoid The Funk, knowing that it is temporary can be helpful in and of itself. When you’re depressed, it certainly seems like it will last forever. But a part of me is becoming more resilient, the part of me that remembers:

“This too shall pass.”