The Way Forward: My Journey to Shodan

My journey in martial arts began in 2012, at the age of six, with school-based Jiu Jitsu classes. At the time, I saw it as a fun after-school activity. My father, Tasshi Sam Oliveri, is a lifelong martial artist who had paused his own training after many years of dedication. Not long after I started, his desire to return to the dojo was reignited, and I followed him into the world of Anderson Bushi Kai at Barbarian Dojos, a club with deep significance to him. That decision would shape much of my personal development from a very young age.

For a few years beginning in 2013, I worked my way to brown belt through consistent training but due to life’s natural commitments, our training paused for a time. In 2020, we returned. This time at the Honbu - first him, then me. We trained together again for another two years, until I made the difficult decision to devote myself entirely to my academic goals at the start of year 11, carrying the lessons of martial arts with me into this next chapter.

During this period, my father re-established Sansára Dojos—the revival of his former club which initially opened in 1990. Though my visits to training were brief and infrequent, I remained connected by assisting with the junior class when possible. In 2023, I completed year 12 in the top 2% of students nationally and began my studies in engineering, with the goal of later entering medicine.

Balancing university, work, and entrepreneurial pursuits is a constant navigation through adversity. Yet martial arts has never been far from my mind. I came to understand that as a man, physical capability and mental fortitude are not optional - they’re essential pillars of one’s character. I understood that to reach the top, I had to return to training and commit fully, without compromise. This led me to an intense physical training period, culminating in earning my black belt in December 2024.

Training has shaped me in ways both subtle and profound. Something as seemingly minor as holding still while sweat trickles down your face and your body pleads for rest, is a lesson in discipline few activities can replicate. That discipline has carried through every aspect of my life.

Through years of practice and my father's guidance, I’ve developed a strong sense of perspicacity—both environmental and strategic. In addition to being alert in public spaces, martial arts has trained me to think logically under pressure, rather than emotionally. That calmness and strategic mindset have been invaluable not just in the dojo, but in every area of life where clarity matters.

Perhaps most importantly, I’ve come to understand the virtue of indefatigability—the capacity to persist beyond comfort and fatigue. Mental fortitude governs physical output. Whilst a strong mind can sit through endless hours of work or study, there is no greater test for the mind than the physical one. When you’re passed your physical limit – gassed out and overwhelmingly fatigued, the mind will dictate whether you keep going. Martial arts taught me that pain is the test; the mind is the answer.

Martial arts also taught me that confidence is an external manifestation of competence. Confidence is the result of repeatedly proving to yourself that you are capable. Once you have endured what others would quit, ordinary challenges begin to feel trivial. When I understood this, I carried myself differently through the principle of projection.

Training reinforced a lesson I now hold central to my worldview: no excuses. Life is player vs. player. There’s winners and losers, and it comes down to the individual. If you lose, it doesn’t say the reason why – it just says you lost. There’s no excuses.

This journey has been far from linear. But that’s what makes it mine. Every pause, every challenge, and every return to training added a layer of meaning to the artform. Reaching Shodan is not a conclusion. It is the beginning of something deeper—a lifelong commitment to continual growth, service, and mastery. I move forward with gratitude, humility, and resolve.