When I train with my teacher, one of the things I keep asking is, “Okay, from right here, you just passed the guard, you’re in side control. What are you thinking?”
His answer is always the same: “I’m not thinking anything.”
It frustrates me and makes me laugh, because I already know the answer. I’ve been asking the same question for every position or scenario for the last ten years. We think about jiu-jitsu differently. He isn’t ten steps ahead, just one or two. I’m always trying to map out the path, figuring out what priorities I should have and what checkpoints I need to hit.
Alex doesn’t see it that way. I’ll ask, “Then what do you want from here?” He’ll say, “I don’t want anything.” I’m looking for the secret detail that will turn my jiu-jitsu into magic, but that secret doesn’t exist.
Eventually he told me, “If anything, I’m just thinking about staying on top.”
That made me pause. Because when I roll, once I get on top I’m usually thinking about advancing. He’s just focused on not going backwards. At the end of our session I asked him to put me on bottom and let me feel what he was doing. No matter what I tried, it felt like he was making small adjustments that forced me into worse positions. Every reaction pulled me closer to danger.
It reminded me that no matter how good you think you are, there’s always more to learn. And that different people teach and learn in different ways.
I used to get frustrated with Alex because he wouldn’t give me a neat, step-by-step plan. His approach is more like, “Here’s the beginning, here’s the end, the middle is messy.” That doesn’t mean he’s messy. He’s super detailed and can troubleshoot anything. If I tell him I’m having trouble with a position or movement, he knows exactly what to do. No matter what reaction I give him, he has an answer. And when I ask a “why” question, he’s able to make it easy to understand.
He once explained it by saying jiu-jitsu is like buying furniture from IKEA and throwing away the instructions. That’s part of what made him so creative. I’d read the instructions twice before touching the pieces.
Sometimes the teaching you resist at first is the one you end up needing most. You think you want clear instructions and a straight line, but then someone shows you how to navigate the chaos instead. It may not feel like what you were looking for, but it might be exactly what makes you better.