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# System prepended metadata

title: Inner Musings

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# My Genkidama

## An ode to the man who lent me his strength

I enjoy writing, and I write quite often. I wouldn't say I write daily but I write a lot, though I hardly ever share. I write because it is very cathartic to me. Writing helps me clarify my thoughts and emotions, thus, it's always very personal. I only share what I put down on paper (or on the computer) when I believe that doing so will resonate with the reader or when I want to explain a quirk about my personality. Today I choose to share because I believe what I have to say might accomplish both.

On March 8th, I found out that Akira Toriyama, creator of Dragon Ball, had passed away. The news hit me hard. When I say hard, think crying for two days straight hard. I had never experienced such an emotion when somebody I had never met, somebody I had never even interacted with online, had passed away. I had not cried because of music or art in my life, this was a first, and I knew then that something major had moved deep inside.

### The Early Years

Dragon Ball was huge in the 90s, and it was a huge part of my life growing up. I watched episodes daily, I collected the sticker albums, I got toys, pretended I was a Saiyan while playing with my friends, played video games, everything you could imagine. I truly loved Dragon Ball as a kid. Going into my teenage years, I still enjoyed DB but liking a cartoon show was not the most popular thing in high school. I remember my younger brother making fun of me for still watching it at age 13 or my dad showing me a quote from Tony Hawk that said something like "skateboarders are cool, unlike those kids staying at home watching anime and playing card games." Slowly, I started to drift away from Dragon Ball because I realized that it acted like a contraceptive method and as a teenager that was a no-go for me.

And so it was that I kind of completely forgot about Dragon Ball for over 10 years.

### Reunion

It wasn't until I was much older, and I'd say a bit less self-conscious, that my love for Dragon Ball resurfaced again. After 1-2 years with my then girlfriend (now wife) I kind of got interested in Dragon Ball again when a new show was released, went to the movies for a new theatrical feature, and did not feel embarrased about it like I had in the past. I was with somebody who loved me for who I was, no matter how nerdy my interests were. Having somebody like that by my side (somebody who agreed to have our wedding props be Dragon Ball themed) gave me a lot of confidence and I stopped hiding how much I enjoyed Dragon Ball and by opening up, found out that a lot of people still enjoyed the show or had kept up with it over the years. I had met again with a long lost love, or so I thought. Because what I went on to realize on March 8th of this year was that Dragon Ball had always been there with me even if I had pushed it to my subconscious.

### Teachings

I am not a talented individual, nothing ever comes easily to me. You know those people who can just pick up any instrument, or play well any sport, did great at school? Definitely not me. Anything I ever picked up was a struggle at first, and only ever got to average at best. The only thing people ever say that is a good trait about me is my perseverence and that's where Dragon Ball comes in. I learned to persevere through watching Dragon Ball, and indirectly, through Akira Toriyama's ideas.

Growing up in a household where the main message was to settle, a young kid with a lot of imagination was looking for more. "Do not chase dreams, it only leads to heartbreak" or "you got to find a nice stable company to work for and stay there for life" never resonated with me, I was day dreaming all the time. My mind was the only place where I could be good at something. I did not want it to be the only place and that's when I met Goku. Goku was an average joe, somebody who had been discarded for being too weak and the whole premise, the ethos if you will, of the story is that an average fighter can become a great one through constant improvement. An average person can work hard and keep surpassing their limits. Now there was a message that resonated with me because it put the responsability in my hands. I was the only person who was responsible for my future. If I worked hard, I would see the results I wanted. I took that to heart, and that message stuck with me forever. The message that I could become great at something through perserverance has been my guiding force ever since.

My objective for over 15 years was to be a professional soccer player and I did not achieve that so you could say I failed and all I learned from Dragon Ball was for naught as eventually I moved on to something else. You might say I "gave up" on my dream. But that's not the point!

Sure, I did not have an amazing career playing a lot of matches, being on TV every weekend, I do not have world-renown. But I was on a roster for a bit in Paraguay and played with somebody on the national team, I played for Miami United and we made a nice run in the US Open Cup, I got paid to play games! I played against San Lorenzo de Almagro three weeks after they had played against Real Madrid in the FIFA Club World Cup final, live on ESPN! And you know what? That's not the point either.

What's important here is that I *believed* that I could be a great soccer player. Even when not a single person in the whole world believed so, I did. I truly did. And it was all because Akira Toriyama had told me that if I kept trying, I would accomplish it eventually. Of course he was not thinking about me specifically when creating Dragon Ball, he was thinking of all kids out there who want to do great things. He was a dreamer, just like I am, and his dream gave me the strength to continue year in and year out for over 15 years.

For somebody who did not even care about soccer until age 9, and who did not play any organized sports until age 12, I think I did pretty well. I am not athletic, I am not skilled, I had to keep working hard for everything I earned. Going through all that was fun, that's what is important to me today. All that I learned along the way is what will stick with me until my last day. Traveling to Paraguay was an adventure, I enjoyed every minute of it. Improving day after day and seeing my body transform, learning new things, meeting new people. It was all worth it, it doesn't matter that the outcome wasn't exactly what I had hoped for. The things I can do now at 35 that I could not do at 20, just because I kept working at them never ceases to amaze me. That's what's beautiful about it. The pushing of limits is what gives me happiness and gets me to keep going. I did not make my high-school soccer team initially my senior year, and when I did, I was bullied and made fun of all season by the stars and it was painful but I kept at it, long after I had graduated. Out of all those 25 players on the team, only three ever played in a Division 1 college. One of them was me.

Overcoming physical limitations is one thing, but breaking through mental barriers is what it truly is about. Hard work has taught me discipine, it has taught me humility, it has taught me to persevere and it has taken me to push my limits there too. Seeking therapy, asking for help, saying "I am sorry" when I am wrong.

It's not only in the pursuit of improving at a sport that I've used Toriyama's teachings, I've taken them with me in every aspect of my life. When I wanted to make a career change and went back to studying full-time at 26, even if it meant moving back in with my parents for a year, I had my north star that I was going for. I knew it was just a matter of time, that I had to regroup and come out stronger.

Recently I lost my job and I thought it would be super easy to get a new one (so much for learning humility, amirite?) but that was not the case. It took me six months to get a new job, all with a pile of debt hanging over my head like a dark cloud. Many times I wanted to give up, to just sell the house we had recently built, to sell all my posessions and pay back debt, to get a bad job just to be doing something. Rejection after rejection kept making it harder with savings dwindling. It was about 17 companies that said no to me after I had gone through the full interview cycle (usually around 3-4 weeks). This was super demoralizing, but I kept fighting because I once again believed with all my heart that I was good enough to get a great job and that it was just a matter of trying harder, studying more, sleeping less. I am happy to say that I'm on my third week at a new place.

Through Dragon Ball I learned to believe in myself no matter the situation, no matter the odds. I always bet on myself and I am not afraid to try new things because I have incorporated the fact that I will eventually improve if I just keep at it. The best compliment I ever got was from a friend who said "if you run for president one day, I will vote for you." He didn't have to say anything else, I knew exactly what he meant: I don't know how, but you will find a way to do it.

### Demons

They say there's two sides to every story, and there are two sides to mine as well. The noble pursuit of excellence, the unwordly sacrifices along the way, the romantic ending…they all sound great in a movie, but in the real world it doesn't come without its consequences.

The obsession with constant improvement has led to problems with relationships, and I don't mean just the romantic ones, it's led to problems with friends and family too. Being the last one to arrive or the first one to leave every single time is not the most popular thing to do with a group of friends in their 20s. Passing up on birthdays or weddings or other social events to go train isn't very popular either, especially when people don't feel passionate about what you're doing like you are. Most people understand you have to miss events if you play for FC Barcelona but when you're playing at a third-division club it doesn't make any sense to them because it doesn't feel professional, to them it's not worth it.

Explaining to a non-athlete girlfriend that you cannot go have dinner with her parents is tough and conversations would always go something like: why can't you just skip the game, you are not even playing? There are games every Sunday, just miss one. You cannot miss because you already have that commitment with your teammates and with yourself.

Worst of all is the self-guilt. The guilt at eating something that's not healthy and that might add some weight here or there, the guilt at drinking or going on vacation. You can feel the guilt creeping in when you want to miss a practice or take it easy one day. "I thought you really wanted this…" your mind says first. Then the paranoia hits and it gets even worse: "what if you missed your chance because of today…" and off you go again, no matter how tired you are. Restlesness follows you everywhere. How many times have I sat down to watch TV and relax for a day and I ended up stretching, or doing push-ups or reading a book instead because it was more "productive"? When you are obsessed, you do not realize that relaxing is part of the routine. You need to relax to not go insane first of all, but also the body needs to relax in order to recover.

### It's the climb

It's a cliché by now that what matters is the journey, not the destination. I did not believe that for a second, to me not becoming a professional soccer player was considered a failure and I was going to try everything in my power to make it. I could not withstand the idea of not fulfilling my goal and did not always care about the journey. From age 15 to 30, my sole purpose was to improve and make it as an athlete, I organized my whole life around it. Now, five years later, you cannot get me to play 11-vs-11 soccer because I no longer find it fun. Something that was my whole life does not even interest me in the slightest now. Yeah, I still play soccer in the form of beach soccer, but it's a different sport and maybe in 5 years time I will pick up golf or karate or painting and never think about beach soccer again. Playing the sport was a part of my life, not my whole life, it's only now that I see it.

Now that I see the bigger picture, I know that what mattered was the climb, not reaching the top. What matters to me is that I went from getting picked last in gym class because I couldn't kick a ball to learning to kick with both feet, juggling, saving penalties and myriad other things. What matters to me is what I learned along the way, not even what I accomplished (however little). The most fun I had was not by winning games or making a great save here or there, it was knowing that I *could* make them, it was knowing that I had trained my body to coordinate in ways that it could not before, to move, to push, to bend. Each new skill was its own amazing milestone.

What matters to me is that I've taken these lessons and applied them elsewhere too. Sports bring the best and worst in us and I've learned to manage stress and anxiety, sports led me to confront things in my past, they taught me to ask for a raise at work or to be nice to other people, they taught me patience. The journey took my mental limits and pushed them way further than I ever thought possible. That is the whole point of what I learned from Akira Toriyama's work.

### It matters to me

People might come at me with pitchforks for what I'm about to write but I have never been a huge Diego Maradona fan. I have not been able to separate the football genius from the person until just a few days ago. There's this famous quote about him that says "I do not care what you did with your life, I care about what you did with mine." What a beautiful fucking quote! It truly encompasses how I feel right now and how countless others have felt before about artists, athletes, musicians and the like. I never met Akira Toriyama, I don't even know much about him at all, he was super shy and lived a life out of the spotlight. I have no idea if he was a good person or a bad one, I don't know if he liked animals or despised them, I don't know anything at all really. Yet, that does not matter, what matters to me is how he made me feel.

He made me believe in myself.