Coach Wooden: Definitions of Success

I have just finished reading the fabulous Wooden: A Lifetime of Observations and Reflections on and Off the Court by the all-time greatest ever college basketball coach, John Wooden with Steve Jamison.  Apparently still alive, but gravely ill at 99, Coach Wooden was profiled in Carol Dweck's fantastic book, Mindset, which I reviewed previously, and I am now reading some of the books recommended therein.

Wooden's approach to teaching, coaching, and life, which led him to an unrivalled record as coach of the  UCLA Bruins, including 10 national championships, including a streak of 7 (the previous record was 2 in a row), was built on an unconventional but efficacious definition of success.  He disagrees with the dictionary definition:

I knew how Mr. Webster defined it: "as the accumulation of material possessions or the attainment of a position of power or prestige, or something of that sort." Worthy accomplishments perhaps, but in my opinion not necessarily indicative of success. So I wanted to come up with something of my own. ...

From those things, and one other perhaps, I coined my own definition of success. Which is: Peace of mind attained only through self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to do the best of which you're capable. I believe that's true. If you make the effort to to the best of which you're capable, try and improve the situation that exists for you, I think that's success.

The catch in this is that it leads to highly refined, systematic, and committed approach to training and learned.  It's not easy, it's not about talent, but consistent and intelligent practice and teamwork.

The ultimate accolade that Wooden received was that his past players routinely said that more than teaching them how to play basketball, he showed them how to succeed in life.  It took fifteen years for Wooden to win his first national championship, but well before then, by his own lights he was already successful.

His book is great, and you should read it.  Here's a sample of some more of his pithy wisdom:

The four laws of learning are explanation, demonstration, imitation, and repetition. The goal is to create a correct habit that can be produced instinctively under great pressure. To make sure this goal was achieved, I created eight laws of learning: namely, explanation, demonstration, imitation, repetition, repetition, repetition, repetition and repetition.

Needless to say, everything in the book is applicable to almost any area of endeavour.

Feldenkrais's recipe for genius

Moshe Feldenkrais was a physicist and pioneering judo black belt (under Kawaishi) who invented what later became known as the Feldenkrais Method of movement education to fix his knees -- which he had wrecked playing soccer -- in the days before reliable reconstructive surgery.

His books are fascinating and at times perplexing, but always thought provoking.  Many of his students have written more accessible derivative works -- e.g. Hegge's "Running with the whole body" and Hanna's "Somatics" -- but for sheer depth it's hard to go past Feldenkrais himself.  I recommend "Awareness through Movement" as the most accessible. 

Ruthy Alon shows what it's all about:

Here's a quote that I have been puzzling over for a few years:

"Find your true weakness and surrender to it. Therein lies the path to genius. Most people spend their lives using their strengths to overcome or cover up their weaknesses. Those few who use their strengths to incorporate their weaknesses, who don't divide themselves, those people are very rare. In any generation there are a few and they lead their generation."

Recently it occurred to me that Feldenkrais was in-part referring to something that I have believed for a long time, but attaching a greater significance: 

By finding something that you are weak in, but keen on, you can embark on a great journey -- from weakness to acquired strength -- not merely a path to competence, but also one of learning, insight, and challenges.  By taking such a path not only will you gain personally, but also be in a position to help others on their journeys, far more so than if you had merely stuck to your strengths.

In my case, it is the things that I am passionate about, had to work hard at to get somewhere, that I not only value a little more than the things that came easily, but also which I feel best equipped to teach. 

This applies to my experience of martial arts as a whole, but at other levels too.  For example: As a beginner I struggled to learn our 2nd hip throw -- kubi nage (neck throw) -- and yet today it is one of my favorite techniques.  Furthermore:  My students seem to acquire its nuances quite quickly -- certainly much faster than I did -- presumably because having struggled with it in so many ways over such a long period, I am now well-equipped to teach it.  

Taking this example further, I am happier with how I execute kubi nage today than I am with other throws that came to me more easily: Weakness has overtaken strength; the tortoise has outraced the hare.  Now the challenge is to integrate what I have learned in struggling with kubi nage to improve in other areas.

There's still more to Feldenkrais's recipe -- including "finding your true weakness": How do you do that?  How do you verify it?  More food for thought ...

P.S. Feldenkrais's judo books are also great, but largely out of print.  Happily, Irene Gutteridge has pointed out that Higher Judo: Groundwork is available from www.feldenkrais.com.

P.P.S. The classical judo that I practice comes via Mikonosuke Kawaishi,  who was dispatched by Judo founder Jigoro Kano to spread Judo to the Europeans after Kano met (and throttled!) a then young Feldenkrais in Paris.  Who was the first European black belt in Judo? Feldrenkrais.  His teacher?  Kawaishi. 

Trying to do great things?

The writer and academic Debashish Chatterjee once asked Mother Teresa how she had been able to do so many great things in her life:

At first she looked at me quizzically, as if she was trying to figure out what I could possibly mean.  Then she responded by saying simply, "You cannot do great things.  You can only do small things with great love."

From Senge et al., Presence: Exploring profound change in people, organizations, and society, p139.

Wise words

The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget. -- Thomas Szasz