In a world dominated by appearances and social media, it’s easy to fall into the trap of believing that success is measured by what is shown. In the case of a martial arts master, this illusion is especially common. The image projected from the outside is often striking: high-ranking belts, spectacular techniques, international travel, applause, and recognition. But what many don’t see is the iceberg hidden beneath the surface: the true price of mastery.
What people see
When someone looks at a martial arts master, what they usually perceive is the final result of years—decades—of effort. They see refined skills, spectacular demonstrations, diplomas on the wall, and a confident figure surrounded by respect. It’s also often associated with an idealized lifestyle: trips to Japan, international seminars, media interviews, gifts from students, a growing community, good income, and reputation.
In this narrative, the master seems to have reached a peak admired by many. However, this is only the tip of the iceberg.
- Fighting skills
- Spectacular demonstrations
- Diplomas and black belts
- Confidence
- Authority
- Charisma
- Impressive techniques
- Traveling the world
- Private lessons with Japanese masters
- Teaching seminars abroad
- Japanese food
- Attending courses and congresses
- Meeting new people
- Teaching others
- Money
- A nice car
- Japanese weapons
- A good phone
- High-quality training clothes
- Gifts from parents and students
- Business growth
- Increasing number of students
- Interviews in newspapers and magazines
- Professional contacts
- Applause
- Etc.
Behind that polished image lies a very different story. A story of discipline and sacrifice.
Being a martial arts master involves attending countless courses, investing in continuous training, organizing seminars for others, and taking personal and financial risks to grow a business. It means dealing with injuries, chronic fatigue, existential doubts, and endless hours spent planning classes, designing programs, and constant self-improvement. There are also sleepless nights, internal and external criticism, political conflicts within the martial community, administrative tasks, and the ongoing challenge of finding and retaining students.
All of this is often done in silence.
And beyond the body, it’s character that is trained—the ultimate goal in the practice of Budo. Patience, leadership, humility, and the ability to be a mentor are not taught on the tatami, but forged in the hardest moments of the journey.
What people don’t see:
- Attending countless training courses
- Organizing courses for other masters
- Taking risks to grow the business
- Years of training with different instructors
- Studying sports theory
- Time and dedication
- Doubts and uncertainty
- Expenses for travel and better equipment
- Constant investment in materials for students
- Paying business bills
- Finding and attracting new students
- Sacrificing family time
- Planning weekly, annual, and long-term classes
- Hours of physical and theoretical preparation
- Criticism from students unprepared to offer it
- Criticism from other instructors who feel their space is being “taken”
- Sports politics and management
- Endless, personalized training
- Constant failure and overcoming it
- Deep mental development
- Structured physical strengthening
- Daily discipline and self-control
- Guiding and advising other instructors
- Being a mentor outside the tatami
- Injury prevention and recovery
- Constant adaptability
- Love for what you do, despite the effort and sacrifice
- Paying staff under your charge
- Criticism from people without proper training
- “Leech” students. Hypocrites who think you don’t notice what they are.
- Etc.
This comparison between what is seen and what is not could be perfectly illustrated by the image of an iceberg. What emerges above the water—the skills, the titles, the authority—is just a small part of the whole. Beneath it, hidden but essential, is the effort that holds the entire structure.
The common mistake is to think that visibility equals value. But in martial arts, as in life, true value lies in what you do when no one is applauding. In the lonely training sessions, in the hard decisions, and in the perseverance when there are no immediate results.
Being a martial arts master in the 21st century is not just a matter of technique. It is a life of total commitment to a philosophy, and above all, a path of personal growth. It’s understanding that true recognition is not in the applause, diplomas, or praise, but in the transformation you achieve in yourself and others.
So, the next time you see a master teaching a class, giving a demonstration, or receiving recognition, remember: what you’re seeing is just a small part of what they’ve lived through to get there.
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