Running a dojo can be hard work. We all know about the physical exhaustion, but what about the mental and emotional stress that can build up when working with children and their parents? It can be challenging to be the centered, all-knowing Sensei 24/7, 365 days a year. Sometimes, I come home to my own family and say, that's it. I'm hanging up my black belt. I just can't do it any more. At this moment of critical mass, my brilliant husband starts working on me using my very own teaching method on me! It's called "ask questions." He calmly begins with, "Well, if you hang up your black belt, who are all those kids going to look up to?" I reply, "They'll do just fine with the other Sensei." "Well, what about all the kids you've inspired already?" "What kids? They all just move on and forget about me. What's the difference?" (Can you hear how good I am at pouting?) I eventually get over it, and move forward to another day. Then, when I least expect it, and need it most, a letter arrives. It says, Dear Sensei Dawn, I just arrived back from Washington, D.C. late last night where I attended the National Young Leaders Conference. I was one of 350 students chosen from across the country to meet with representatives from the House of Congress, the news media, and the international community. Dad and mom picked me up at the airport and as tired as I was, I shared with them the great two weeks I had there. I am writing this letter to you because I wanted to thank you very much for your support, friendship, and for helping me to understand about the importance of leadership, through karate. I believe that if it wasn't for you and Karate Kids, I might not have been selected to attend this Leadership Conference by my high school principle. I am leaving soon for Japan because I was also selected to be a Youth Leader in a missionary exchange program there for one month. Having just reached 17 years old, I would like to thank you for everything that you have taught me and showed me over the past seven years. I really do believe that it was because of my training with you that I was chosen to be in these groups. I thank you very much again, Sincerely, David Shikata With tears in my eyes, I am suddenly transformed from a tired teacher to a proud mama. "This is why I do what I do," I proudly announce to my husband. In his all knowing way, he nods. Then, behaving like smart-aleck he really is, he says, "got ginko?" "What do you know about herbs?" I blurt out. "Just want to make sure you remember this for next time," he says with a smile. Okay, fine, so I'm not the perfect "master" I see on television. But, if I was so centered all the time, wouldn't that make me a little insensitive? Perhaps, even a little less passionate? And, if I miss out on the aggravation, how could I possibly be inspired by the joy. Hey, see how enlightened I can sound? A letter like this brings a tear to my eyes that I wouldn't want to miss for all the tea in China, or all the wisdom in those temples. Inspiration comes in all forms, and the great thing about life, is that we can always depend on the U.S. Postal Service, come rain or shine.