Dealing with Death in Martial Arts

Dealing with death is a fundamental issue in the martial arts. After all, self-defense, in its most extreme form, is a kill or be killed situation.

Sounds scary, doesn’t it? Yep! Which is exactly why I find the martial arts to be so challenging and so profound.

To truly master martial arts, you must determine what you will fight for, kill for, and die for.

Big questions. But the rewards for answering them are priceless—clarity of purpose and a defined moral code.

Of course, not all schools push their training to such extremes. Some schools practice simply for fitness or tradition. Some practice for competition or entertainment.

Too bad! Because of all the benefits the martial arts have to offer, the greatest of all is the acceptance of death. If that sounds odd, I understand. It took me a while to figure that out, too.

Here’s how it happened…

When I was a teenager, I was an arrogant jerk. I got interested in the martial arts thinking they would increase my power and control. Instead, they exposed my limitations. When I stepped on to the mats, I quickly found out I wasn’t always the smartest, fastest, toughest, coolest guy in the room.

The martial arts made me feel incompetent, stupid, and powerless. They stripped me of my swagger and replaced it with humility.

It wasn’t until I earned my second black belt in my late 20’s that I felt I had finally reached a state of balance and—dare I say—enlightenment. By then, I knew my strengths and admitted to my weaknesses. I felt equally powerful and vulnerable.

If you had asked me then if I had made peace with death, I would have answered yes. Why? Because I had spent years getting punched, losing sparring matches, and making mistakes. Was death really so different?

What is death but one more limitation? One more vulnerability? One more strike to the ego? By accepting my weaknesses, I had also accepted death.

Or so I thought.

The truth was I still hated to lose. I still harbored a huge ego inside a humble shell. I hadn’t accepted my weaknesses at all, I had merely figured out ways to work around them.

The same was true for my friend Carl.

Carl has been my training partner for many years. He always brings a fearless spirit to training, which I am compelled to match. Since neither of us wants to lose to the other, we bring out each other’s best… and worst!

The most shocking moment in our training, however, came on Carl’s birthday. On birthdays, it’s a tradition in our garage fight club to give the birthday boy a beat down. No blood or broken bones, mind you, just one guy fending off a continuous attack from everyone else until it’s impossible to continue. Of course, the longer you can last, the more you can brag.

So, preparing for his birthday battle, Carl put on his toughest face as the rest of us put on our gloves.

3… 2… 1… GO!

The first minute was a blur of scrapping and scrambling.

The second minute saw Carl huffing and puffing.

By the third minute, stress was taking its toll. Carl’s legs were rubbery, his arms were dropping, and his eyes weren’t tracking.

At four minutes, the end was near. I took him down, planting a knee on his chest and thumping his forehead with my fist.

“Come on, man. Don’t give up.”

Carl could only raise one hand to stop me. I rooted him on, “Fight! Fight!”

He gasped for air. I kept thumping.

Suddenly, to my surprise, he looked away. His hand fell away from his face.

“Hey! Keep fighting! You’re going to die! YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!”

And then I heard it. The most shocking reply of all time—

“I don’t care.”

The words of defeat fell out of his mouth with no emotion whatsoever: I… don’t… care.

No ego. No embarrassment. No sense of self whatsoever. Just a cold fact.

And that was that. Carl was dead. His fearless spirit had left him.

To be clear, this was not losing a fight… this was giving up a fight. The once fearless Carl just laid back and accepted his own death.

To see my rival so unguarded was unsettling. I didn’t know what to say. So, I talked trash—

“Ha! Way to go, Warrior! Your mama would be real proud of how you gave up!”

Sure, I had seen people give up before, but not like this. Usually, we just curled up in a ball and took a few lumps. But to just lie back and stop defending yourself? I couldn’t get my head around it.

For weeks afterwards, I mocked him. But here’s what I didn’t know…

We all have a breaking point.

I’ve talked about breaking down in the martial arts before. To be clear, I don’t just mean a physical breaking point, I mean a spiritual breaking point. Culturally, we don’t like to talk about spiritual breakdowns very much.

We want to see ourselves as fighters. We want to believe that we will defend our precious spark of life until our last dying breath.

We believe it’s our duty to fight back. We believe it’s noble and righteous to fight back against anything or anyone that would dare threaten our survival.

But that’s just not how it plays out in the real world. And to my surprise—that’s okay.

Dealing with Death in the Real World

Once you have reached your breaking point, I believe every human being will not just stop fighting, but will accept death. No fear, no regrets, no drama. Just a detached acceptance that this life is done.

It took me months after seeing Carl surrender in the garage to remember that I had seen this same phenomenon before when my grandfather passed away. My grandfather had been hospitalized for a heart surgery and was forced to recuperate in the hospital for several weeks.

In the first couple of days, he was relieved to be alive.

In the next few days, he grew restless and wanted to go home.

When his recovery took a turn for the worse, he grew agitated. Then angry.

As days turned to weeks and his prognosis grew bleaker, his spirit dipped into depression.

In his final days, my grandfather’s spirit changed for the last time. He knew he’d never leave the hospital and, slowly but surely, found comfort in the promise of moving on. In short, he accepted death.

His attitude had an unexpected effect on me. Because he felt at peace with his death, I felt at peace with his death.

Of course, I would miss having my grandfather in my life, but as I sat with a man who showed no trace of fear or pain, why should I feel any fear or pain? If he wasn’t upset about death, who was I to be upset?

Making that connection between Carl and my grandfather inspired me to train even harder. If everyone has a breaking point, where was mine? If there was a way to make peace with death, shouldn’t I find it?

Eventually, I found what I was looking for. To my surprise, my breaking point was revealed not in my chosen martial arts of Kung Fu or Karate, but in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. The reason is simple…

When you “die” in practice from strikes or weapons, the game is fast. It’s easy to start over and not dwell on your defeat for very long. Combine that with an ego that denies your mistakes or makes excuses for your shortcomings, and the odds of ever truly dealing with death are slim.

But grappling is different. When you’re pinned on the ground under a heavy partner, time stops. You lie there wallowing in your vulnerability. Your face is rubbed in helplessness. Your ego is silenced by the crushing reality of being crushed.

The first time I was suffocated in BJJ, I was horrified. My arms were numb. I couldn’t breathe. I had no idea what to do.

I panicked. I flailed. I bucked. It didn’t matter.

That’s when I felt it. When all of my ideas had failed and all my energy was spent, my fear faded. My desire to win evaporated. My sense of identity disappeared.

My mind switched from wanting to escape, to NOT CARING if I escaped.

I was dead. And it was okay.

No regrets. No drama. I did everything I could. I had nothing left to give.

Instead of fear or anger, I was left with a sublime feeling of relaxation. For the first time in my life, I felt no pressure to be anyone or anything. If this was the time to move on, so be it.

Of course, in martial arts training, death never comes—it’s only a simulation. But the feeling lingers. Which is why everything changed after that.

Accepting my death brought deeper humility, of course, but also a greater sense of freedom. Freedom from the fear of failing. Freedom from the desire to be special. Freedom from having to be in control.

What a relief it is to die!

Now, when I leave a good martial arts session, I think, “Wow! I was killed 14 times tonight. Cool!”

Why is that cool? Because after dying on a regular basis, guess what? Red lights don’t bother me. Arguments don’t upset me. Very few things bug me at all.

Once you’ve imagined yourself dead, there isn’t much left to worry about.

Dying puts things in perspective. It helps answer those big questions about what you would fight for, kill for, and die for. In short—

Dealing with death prepares you to deal with everything.

That’s why, if you haven’t already, I recommend seeking out a near-death experience. No, you don’t have to swim with sharks or grab for a police officer’s gun, you can simply enter into your martial arts training with the attitude that today is a good day to die.

Push yourself and find partners who will push you to the point where you can do no more. And that’s not all…

Seek out opportunities to fail in other areas of your life. If someone asks you to play a video game and you don’t play video games, spend a few minutes losing.

I’m not saying lose on purpose! On the contrary, play as hard as you can. But welcome failure as a small taste of death… and get used to it. Death is an acquired taste.

People who are afraid of failure never do anything. People who don’t do anything, never succeed. So, get out there and fail!

Accept defeat. Accept death. Ride into battle like the legendary samurai who devoted themselves to fighting for life without fearing death.

In that spirit, let me direct your attention to a book entitled, Hagakure. This is a collection of teachings assembled in the early 1700’s from a samurai by the name of Yamamoto Tsunetomo. Consider his words—

Every morning a warrior should recommit himself to death. In morning meditation, see yourself killed in various ways, such as being shredded by arrows, bullets, swords, and spears, being swept away by a tidal wave, burned by fire, struck by lightening, dying in a earthquake, falling from a great height, or succumbing to overwhelming sickness.”

And this—

If by setting one’s heart right every morning and evening, one is able to live as though his body were already dead, he gains freedom in the Way. His whole life will be without blame, and he will succeed in his calling.”

Clearly, the tradition of dealing with death is strong in the martial arts. The goal is not to encourage death, but to prepare for it.

We all know the power of positive thinking, yet how often does it lead us nowhere? Think about it—even with a head filled with positive thoughts, how many actions have you still not taken that you know you should?

What’s holding you back?

The fear of failure! So, confront it. Instead of visualizing success, try visualizing your failure. That’s right! I’m telling you to—

THINK NEGATIVE!

Spend time with your scariest thoughts. Meditate on your nightmares. Let defeat and failure sink into your bones. I’ll bet you find out it’s really not so bad.

Once you make peace with failure and accept your death, what in this world can possibly frighten you? Or stop you? As it says in the Bible—

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” 1 Corinthians 15:55

This ancient wisdom must not be lost in a world of happy mantras and feel good advice. Instead, turn into the darkness.

Dealing with death is the only way of defeating death.

The process begins by recognizing that death is part of life. Loss is part of life. Sorrow is part of life. These are part of our full human experience.

The sooner you learn to manage these negatives—if you must call them negatives—the better. Hiding from them, denying them, or drowning them out will only work against you.

So, the good news about dealing with death is that dying is not to be feared. Death is only scary because it hasn’t happened yet. It’s an unknown. But so is much of life.

Just as you trust yourself to step outside, navigate through traffic, deal with customers, raise children, make new friends, and take trips to new places, you should trust yourself to be prepared for death when it comes.

Don’t be afraid of dying… be afraid of not living.

Final thought. I was digging through some old notebooks and found a verse that sums up my feelings on dealing with death. I wrote it when I was 24, but it makes more sense to me today.

If anyone in my family is reading this, please have this engraved on my tombstone. You’re welcome to engrave it on yours, too! 🙂

This article is a summary of the Fight for a Happy Life podcast, “Facing Death.” Listen to the full episode here.