Reflections from Okinawa: A Lesson in Dedication

This photo, my shoes sitting alone on the beach, seemed like the right one to share today. It represents a rare quiet moment in the middle of what has been an incredibly demanding week of training here in Okinawa.

I’m on my seventh day of training, and every session has taken place in a home dojo - small, personal space where deep learning happens through quiet repetition and total commitment.

Over this past week, one thing has stood out to me more than anything else: the level of fitness and dedication the Okinawan karate practitioners bring to their craft. Many of them are in their 70s and 80s, and yet they move with strength, precision, and grace that honestly put me to shame at times. Their consistency is remarkable.

In the U.S., karate is often seen as an activity; something we do as part of a balanced life that includes work, family, and other forms of fitness. And that’s perfectly okay. We do things very well in the U.S. too. But here in Okinawa, karate isn’t just an activity. It’s a lifestyle...something that shapes every part of who they are.

Watching and training alongside them has been humbling. I realized that while I love yoga and CrossFit (and will continue to do them), what I truly need to spend more time on is my actual craft. These Okinawan practitioners don’t diversify their training to stay in shape, they become fit through the practice itself.

It reminded me of something my Taekwondo instructor, Greg Fears, used to tell me. Greg is a world champion, and when I was a teenager, I would spend hours running and lifting weights to “get stronger” for tournaments. He didn't really like that and would say, “Kelly, if you’re going to be a better kicker, kick. You’re not training to be a marathoner. You’re training to be a champion in Taekwondo. So, practice kicking.”

That memory came rushing back to me this week. Here in Okinawa, that same philosophy is alive and well. They don’t separate their fitness from their art. The art IS their fitness.

So, as I looked down at my shoes sitting on the beach after a long day of training, I thought about what it means to “walk the path.” Sometimes it’s about taking another step. Sometimes it’s about taking them off, standing still, and remembering why we started walking the path in the first place.

I came here feeling strong. I’m leaving feeling inspired to be stronger...not in comparison to others, but as a way to continue honoring the art and leading by example. This trip has reminded me that mastery isn’t JUST about teaching well, it’s about living the practice every single day.