Gongkwon Yusul Seminar in OHIO, USA 2026

The first day of the Gongkwon Yusul Seminar in Ohio had just begun, and I immediately became suspicious of a few specific participants.

In their own schools scattered across the United States, these individuals are respected leaders, senior teachers, and masters of their respective crafts.

Yet, the moment they stepped onto our mats, they willingly shed their titles to become something far more profound: students.

1. The 42-Year Veteran and His "Survival Bag"

The first person to catch my attention was a 5th Dan Taekwondo Master.

While most participants arrived carrying standard gear—a water bottle, a towel, perhaps a quick snack—this man looked

as if he was preparing to survive alone on a deserted island for a month.

His bag contained:

• Three notebooks

• Four pens

• A portable battery

• A mysterious, highly detailed little journal

Moving straight to the front row, he spent the entire session anchoring his eyes to every demonstration.

Every time a new technique was introduced, he asked a sharp question, took meticulous notes, asked a follow-up, and wrote even more.

He had been walking his martial arts path for forty-two years—longer than many careers and some marriages—yet there he was, completely hollowed out of ego,

filling his pages with the basics of a new system.

2. The BJJ Black Belt and the Word "A Little"

Later that afternoon, a Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu black belt caught my eye. During the conceptual explanations,

he wore the confident face of a man who understood everything, nodding along perfectly to every detail.

However, the moment the practical drilling began, the facade vanished. He walked over and politely asked:

"Excuse me, could you explain that again?"

By the end of the evening, he had asked the exact same question three more times.

Finally, wiping the sweat from his brow, he smiled and said,

"I think I’m beginning to understand it… a little."

To hear a high-level black belt with decades of grappling experience use the words "a little" was incredibly powerful.

It served as a stark reminder: A true master is not someone who knows everything, but someone who deeply understands just how much they still have left to learn.

3. The Hapkido Master in the Corner

On the second day, a Hapkido Master suddenly went missing right around lunchtime.

Concerned that he might have been injured or fallen ill, I went searching for him, only to find him tucked away quietly in a solitary corner of the venue.

He was sitting with an intensely serious expression, furiously reading through his seminar notes like a university student cramming for a final exam.

When I asked him what he was doing, he didn't even look up. He simply replied:

"I’m afraid I might forget what I learned this morning."

What Lies at the Top of the Mountain?

When you step back and look at it, martial arts are a strange and beautiful pursuit.

These masters of Taekwondo, Hapkido, Tang Soo Do, and Jiu-Jitsu are elite practitioners who command rooms full of students back home.

Yet here, they allowed themselves to stumble, to make mistakes, and to ask elementary questions.

Watching them, I answered a question I used to ponder when I was younger: What exists at the absolute summit of the martial arts mountain?

Now, I know the answer: Nothing. You climb one peak, and another appears in the distance.

You conquer that one, and the horizon reveals three more.

The cycle is infinite. Because of this, true martial artists stop chasing a mythical destination. Instead, they learn to fall in love with the climb itself.

Embracing the Journey

As the Ohio seminar drew to a close, participants prepared to return to their respective states.

They left carrying heavier bags than when they arrived—filled not just with new technical details or new friendships, but with a profound, shared realization:

"I am still learning."

That humble mindset is ultimately worth far more than any piece of fabric tied around a waist.

Tomorrow, we begin the official Gongkwon Yusul Instructor Course, and I am already looking forward to it.

I can't wait to see what kind of "suspicious" people walk through the door next—because in my experience,

the ones who ask the most questions are always the ones who take home the world.