Pacific Sun

 Fighting Back

 By Jill Kramer

For me, it was like getting tossed onto an emotional whirlpool for two days. The course runs from 8am to 7pm Saturday and Sunday. It's thoroughly exhausting. And yes, it is transformative.

The process of the workshop is about stemming that old memory, reminding you about who you really are. If you can experience, for just one moment in that weekend, who you are with all the filters gone, with all the self doubt gone, it will shift your life forever.

The training climaxes in a combat session beginning at three o'clock Sunday afternoon. The prospect of going up against two big, scary guys in three rounds of fighting loomed ahead of us, cranking up the tension with each hour. 

As for my own emotional state, I went through most of the first day feeling mildly ticked off. After all, getting the stuffing kicked out of me hour after hour is not my idea of a pleasant way to spend the weekend. Besides, I found it difficult to believe that I was learning anything that could be of practical use. I wasn't sure I would remember any of the fighting techniques during combat on Sunday, let alone any time I might need them in the future. And I failed to see how the so-called "inner work" could have any impact on me, either.

Patrick finally zeroed in on one of the men. Michael was wearing shorts, with Ace bandages wrapped around his knees and elbows. "What are you, a mummy?" Patrick asked, the rest of us backed away. One of the combat rules we'd agreed to was that we couldn't initiate contact with our opponents until their headgear and goggles were on. At the same time, we were not to allow them to push as around. Callan advised us to keep them at least five feet away.

Patrick jeered at Michael for a couple of minutes before putting on his headgear. I held my breath when he charged, and it looked like Michael was overwhelmed. Callan and Bailey circled them, calling out shouts and encouragement to Michael. "Kiai, kiai!" "Good head shot!"  "Nail him!"   Amazingly, Michael had Patrick, his huge foe, down on the ground, pounding him. "Break!"

Back to Top

The Grand Rapids Press
wonderland

Self
Deeefense!

The
(Wo)manly art of Self Defense

Mary Ann Desmond, petite and 30ish stopped screaming and grappled with the man. Then she started to breathe. Deeply. Her shoulders relaxed, and calming breath flowed through her body. It only lasted a few seconds, but the effect on her was noticeable immediately, She seemed to say to herself that she was no longer a victim, she had an option, the option to fight.  She inhaled deeply again and reached inside herself. "HaaaaaaICE", she roared.

Back to Top

Dawn Callan's

Warrior
Work

The Path to
Personal Power

I thought I was going to learn to take care of myself physically. I hoped I would get more comfortable with my own  anger and that of others. I did. I got all of that and more. The biggest thing that happened for me that weekend was getting in touch with my joy in a way I had never experienced, or imagined possible. Somehow feeling safe in my body for the first time made it safe for all my feelings to show up; especially my joy.

Back to Top

Q & A

Her name is Dawn Callan, her game is security

"Living on the edge, there's always that potential of danger, and the only way to eliminate the potential of danger is with your awareness, intelligence and keeping your skills up."

Peoplescape

The magazine of southern California.
Los Angeles

Dawn Callan

Samurai-ette
Blond hair, blue eyes and a five-foot frame - not the usual requirements for a bodyguard. Callan may be small, but she's deadly: She holds black belts in Chinese Kempo and Kobra Kaj Karate.

She also is the cofounder of the Aegis Protective Services Agency. A new Beverly Hills security service that seeks in its employees a combination of brains, sophistication and bone-breaking strength. "We consider ourselves an elite corps of individuals. Very similar to modern-day samurai warriors" Callan explains.

Fighting Back

Marin class awakens warrior within.

In a flash, little Winnie Crettenden, all 130 pounds, is in her attacker's face, fighting for her life.

The man is so much stronger that he's able to get behind her and clamp a heavy forearm around her throat, jerking her off her feet, tossing her from side to side like a rag doll in the jaws of an angry dog.

"Stop fighting," he screams in her ear.

She lets out an animal cry and throws an elbow that strikes her attacker in the temple. Then, shrieking, she arches her body and smashes him in the face with the back of her head.

The blow sends the man reeling backward, crashing in to the floor. Before he can get up off his back, she's on him in frenzy, kicking him repeatedly in the groin.

Back to Top

Training the Inner Warrior

Well over twice my weight, his face so high that I had to tilt my head back to see it, the man loomed over me, singling me out among the group, the way a wolf cuts into a flock of sheep.

His harassment splattered with obscenities, each word growing increasingly angry, he was not only able, but starting, to harm me, or anyone, or anything. But this was no dark street, and I had willingly stepped into the situation . Now it was my challenge to get out.

"It's about thinking you can't fight anymore, and then finding that energy inside you."

Back to Top