The fabric of fighting speaks to me on a level so deep that I feel as though my uniform has become part of who I am.
But this feeling extends beyond just BJJ gis and belts.
The materiality of fighting shapes our experiences in ways that are difficult to describe.
The material world can be rife with meaning – from the uniforms we wear, to the finger-tape and mouthguards with which we accessorize, to the mats on which we train and compete. My personal experiences with BJJ are entangled with the material objects I interact with every day.
But oftentimes, materiality gets overlooked when we reflect on our experiences as athletes and fighters.
What role do your closest material possessions play in your identity as an athlete, fighter, or martial artist?
New Materialism and My Martial Arts Uniform
We tend to talk about feelings, thoughts, and emotions related to personal experiences in sport and physical activity. In sport and exercise psychology research, most studies use interviews and focus groups when qualitatively exploring athletes’ and coaches’ experiences in sport.
But how far can language go? And what lies beyond linguistic representations of the world?
Materiality is one aspect of sporting experiences that tends to get left out of the discussion, but that’s where new materialism comes in.
New materialism is an emerging area of study that moves beyond the exploration of individual experiences, attitudes, and thoughts, and focuses instead on the influences of the material world (e.g., clothing, objects, technology, nature) on our lived experiences.
My personal experiences with BJJ are entangled with the material objects I interact with every day. It’s not something we reflect upon very often, so trying to explore our entanglements with physical objects instead of focusing on feelings, thoughts, and language can be difficult.
Without getting too deep into new materialist theory, here’s the beginning of an exploration into the materiality of my martial arts uniform.
Feeling Comfort in the Kimono
For me, there’s a feeling of security and, well, rightness that I feel when I put my arms through the jacket of a BJJ gi.
Grabbing onto the rough fabric on the cuffs of the sleeves once my arms find their way through the holes, folding one side of the jacket over the other in preparation for the belt tying, and then adjusting the gi jacket once the belt is tied – for me, there are few better feelings in life.
I experience a sense of security when I feel the thick and heavy weaved fabric draped over my shoulders and wrapped tightly around my torso. The uniform is snug in some places, and tight in others, and the sleeves irritate my face when I wipe sweat from my eyes.
But that’s the feeling I’ve come to love.
I’m sure no-gi grapplers, wrestlers, judokas, and other martial artists may experience a similar feeling with their own uniform.
It’s not that a BJJ gi is special in itself – it’s that a BJJ gi is special to me. I believe that’s one reason why my BJJ gis hold so much meaning.
The Belt Itself (Not the Belt Rank) As Being Meaningful
Each time I tie my belt, I am brought through a small reflection.
“I am capable of progress and change if I’m persistent, focused, and dedicated.“
As I form the knot and fold one end of the belt into the other, I think about where I am/how I’m feeling in the present moment. And as I pull the knot closed, I think about my finite time in this sport, and about how grateful I am to have enough health and wealth to be training and competing.
All of this, just from tying a piece of fabric around your waist?
From these reflections, I’ve come to realize the belts I’ve worn throughout my BJJ journey are not just pieces of fabric.
The colour of the belt around your waist – no matter which colour that is – becomes part of your identity. It gives you purpose, motivation, guidance, and makes you feel like you have a place within the BJJ world. It makes you feel empowered, like you’re capable of more than you ever thought you could do (in a healthy, humble way).
Now that I’m a black belt, my old BJJ belts look a bit strange to me. Just like looking at my high school yearbook pictures from more than a decade ago, I ask myself “who was that person?”
All of this, just from reflecting on a piece of fabric tied around my waist.
The Tactility of Finger Tape, Mouthguards, and A Competition Warm-Up Jacket
I could spend all day trying to put into words the feeling of taping my fingers before an extremely difficult training session with a bunch of other tough black belts.
Snapping my mouthguard into place means either sparring or a competition match is about to take place… and that’s something to get excited about and nervous for.
No number of words can seem to properly describe the blended feelings of stress, excitement, anticipation, focus, and chaos I feel when I pull my competition warm-up jacket over top of my gi.
These tactile cues raise the fight/flight/freeze alarm deep inside of me. Seeing these objects isn’t enough; feeling them pressed against my skin is when they really come alive.
The tactility of martial arts is indescribable, yet here I go, attempting to describe it. It escapes words, despite my (and our) most committed efforts to nail it down with language.
The feeling of my martial arts uniform is entirely, utterly, and beautifully unique. The touch of the tatami under my bare feet is energizing, invigorating, and enlivening.
Tradition and Imaginary Mentors
Wearing my martial arts uniform reminds me that I am part of a larger community of martial artists and combat sports athletes.
More broadly than that, I am part of a community of parents, siblings, spouses, employees, employers, those with more money than they know what to do with, those who don’t know if their next paycheck will be enough to cover their cost of living, etc. I’m part of a larger ecosystem in which I play a small yet significant role in spreading positivity to my fellow martial arts practitioners.
More than anything, I think my martial arts uniform is imbued with tradition. Every time I tie my BJJ belt around my waist, I’m reminded of the values that I try to emulate on a daily basis: integrity, honesty, discipline, commitment, camaraderie, consistency, perseverance, and more.
I try to live up to the ideals of the trailblazers who came before me. Despite not knowing the forefathers of BJJ on a personal level, I try to imagine how they would want me to act if I were one of their students.
Every time I tie my BJJ belt around my waist, I imagine a member of the Gracie family yelling at me to have sharper technique, to rely less on my power/strength, to be a positive role model to the youth at the academy, to teach in a way that accommodates all students, to train in a way that would make the grappling Gods proud, to treat my body and spirit with the care of a warrior.
I don’t have a member of the Gracie family to yell orders at me, but every time I put on my BJJ gi and tie my belt, I try to imagine that I do.
Reflecting on the Materiality of Our Lives
When was the last time you reflected on the materiality of your life?
It doesn’t have to be a martial arts uniform – it could be the relationship you have to your running shoes, or boxing gloves, or weightlifting gear, or skis, etc.
The point is, we tend to overlook the meaning we’ve attributed to the material possessions we use on such a regular basis. I’m on the mats nearly every day, sometimes twice per day, so I’m constantly wearing BJJ gis (and seemingly doing laundry every hour of every day), and I’m constantly tying my belt at the start of class or after a hard sparring round in training. Because of this, I’ve started to spend more time reflecting on my entanglement with my martial arts uniform.
What objects in the material world do you interact with every day?
And have you reflected on the meaning that you’ve associated with them lately?
