My 7-year-old son is in karate. Your original viral video about pushing through emotional barriers at your board-breaking test is what inspired me to enter him into martial arts in the first place. He's a very perceptive, sometimes sensitive little boy. But he's strong. Stronger than he gives himself credit for. Last week, he earned his second belt advancement in his class. I framed his certificate and hung it on his wall in his bedroom. Something my father wasn't around to do for me. I took karate twice as a kid and being raised by a single mother incapable of looking and considering those outside of herself, she didn't have the wherewithal to encourage me to keep going. So both of my attempts in martial arts were met with minimal encouragement and zero resistance when I wanted to quit. I'm at my son's classes twice a week, every week. I rush from work immediately to the establishment he trains at, fighting traffic and arriving still in my work clothes just to be there for him and encourage him to train for 30 minutes, occasionally only one hour. When he asked me why I'm always at his classes, it brought tears to my eyes that he both noticed I was, and questioned it. It was a bittersweet moment, and one I used to teach from my father wound; I told him exactly the story I'm telling you now. This past weekend was my first time sparring with him. I've never once seen my son outwardly angry in his life. Upset, crying, sure--often, too. But angry, not once. So this sparring session I prepped him for pretending that I was his bully and warned him I'd say hurtful things to him and hit him, and push him, in order to evoke those feelings. He was scared at first, but my goal was to create an environment that encourages his anger so I can introduce him to that inner fire and simultaneously teach him how to temper it in the future. So that if he finds himself in a trying situation, he can recognize "I am with anger", and thus control it productively, rather than cry and run due to feeling helpless or lash out for lack of knowledge on the difference between good anger and bad anger. He still didn't like even pretending to stand up to me or hit me "because I'm his Dada", so teaching him that lesson while he was in tears was difficult for me. But it was a lesson he was visibly more secure and confident afterward. My point is that your videos are one of many contributing factors to helping me raise my son to be a well-rounded, healthy young man. A benevolent King. So thank you.
Much love Mr Wilson ! I would love to be in a room where you and Inky Johnson have a few talks about life. If you haven't seen him I highly recommend researching into his videos. Keep posting these videos please, they reach the depths of my soul ! You have my support sir !
Man i wish my Dad was Like This With Me When I Was Younger I Suffer From Depression and Stress and This Video Truly Made Me Cry Mr.Wilson Thank You Watching You Calms Me Your Lessons Are Amazing God Bless You Man
Strange to think that black man being asssociated with fatherlessness is almost what exhalation is to inhalation. Then I am realising that actually I was not raised by my father. I always thought of myself of being people lucky. My godmother would die for me, always supported me and always celebrated my achievement even when others just nodded (I always found it funny when English speaking black people celebrated education, when for me getting a degre was just one thing no one but myself had to celebreste…of course my godmother would never had it that way and always opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate my achievements). I used to think god didn’t like me. I used to say to myself “he must have made me on a Friday afternoon, when he was on his way out to shut the store, but; left with spare parts he just made a broken version of a human in me. Then I convinced myself that god gave me perfect attributes even when I couldn’t see evidence of any of them. Until I convinced myself that he must have made me with the best tools he could make. Then I checked my birth certificate…born on a Wednesday: the peak of performance in a job schedule.
My 7-year-old son is in karate. Your original viral video about pushing through emotional barriers at your board-breaking test is what inspired me to enter him into martial arts in the first place. He's a very perceptive, sometimes sensitive little boy. But he's strong. Stronger than he gives himself credit for.
Last week, he earned his second belt advancement in his class. I framed his certificate and hung it on his wall in his bedroom. Something my father wasn't around to do for me.
I took karate twice as a kid and being raised by a single mother incapable of looking and considering those outside of herself, she didn't have the wherewithal to encourage me to keep going. So both of my attempts in martial arts were met with minimal encouragement and zero resistance when I wanted to quit.
I'm at my son's classes twice a week, every week. I rush from work immediately to the establishment he trains at, fighting traffic and arriving still in my work clothes just to be there for him and encourage him to train for 30 minutes, occasionally only one hour. When he asked me why I'm always at his classes, it brought tears to my eyes that he both noticed I was, and questioned it. It was a bittersweet moment, and one I used to teach from my father wound; I told him exactly the story I'm telling you now.
This past weekend was my first time sparring with him. I've never once seen my son outwardly angry in his life. Upset, crying, sure--often, too. But angry, not once. So this sparring session I prepped him for pretending that I was his bully and warned him I'd say hurtful things to him and hit him, and push him, in order to evoke those feelings. He was scared at first, but my goal was to create an environment that encourages his anger so I can introduce him to that inner fire and simultaneously teach him how to temper it in the future. So that if he finds himself in a trying situation, he can recognize "I am with anger", and thus control it productively, rather than cry and run due to feeling helpless or lash out for lack of knowledge on the difference between good anger and bad anger.
He still didn't like even pretending to stand up to me or hit me "because I'm his Dada", so teaching him that lesson while he was in tears was difficult for me. But it was a lesson he was visibly more secure and confident afterward.
My point is that your videos are one of many contributing factors to helping me raise my son to be a well-rounded, healthy young man. A benevolent King. So thank you.
I wish I could like this 10 times. 👍🏾Keep up the good work.
DETROIT IS SO BLESSED TO HAVE A MAN SUCH AS YOURSELF MR. WILSON🎁🎁🎁🎁
Thank you Jason, now I have some standard to just start to recover myself with my daughter. I'll do this exercise with her, for her and myself. Shalom
Much love Mr Wilson ! I would love to be in a room where you and Inky Johnson have a few talks about life. If you haven't seen him I highly recommend researching into his videos. Keep posting these videos please, they reach the depths of my soul !
You have my support sir !
Man i wish my Dad was Like This With Me When I Was Younger I Suffer From Depression and Stress and This Video Truly Made Me Cry Mr.Wilson Thank You Watching You Calms Me Your Lessons Are Amazing God Bless You Man
We need more teachers like that
Absolutely beautiful!❤
Soooo powerful.
Sir you are teaching me to teach others thank you God bless you and your family
I will continue to pray for you and revel in your blessings!
Thank you for being the man God has asked you to be.
We need a chapter in Dallas.
Yes sir... if so I'm there...
@@leifomusic we need it everywhere brother..
Strange to think that black man being asssociated with fatherlessness is almost what exhalation is to inhalation. Then I am realising that actually I was not raised by my father. I always thought of myself of being people lucky. My godmother would die for me, always supported me and always celebrated my achievement even when others just nodded (I always found it funny when English speaking black people celebrated education, when for me getting a degre was just one thing no one but myself had to celebreste…of course my godmother would never had it that way and always opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate my achievements). I used to think god didn’t like me. I used to say to myself “he must have made me on a Friday afternoon, when he was on his way out to shut the store, but; left with spare parts he just made a broken version of a human in me. Then I convinced myself that god gave me perfect attributes even when I couldn’t see evidence of any of them. Until I convinced myself that he must have made me with the best tools he could make. Then I checked my birth certificate…born on a Wednesday: the peak of performance in a job schedule.
💞💞💞💞💞💞💞
how do i get in touch with this place?