Mat therapy
The power of touch, beyond the physical aspects of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu
I have heard all the mainstream benefits of martial arts, including improved self-confidence, discipline, holistic workout, etc. But after looking at my Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu journey, the people and time on the mats made me feel that there is more to that than what I heard and thought before. This piece is a way to organize some of my ideas and share my take on how the arte suave has impacted and healed me.
I have been doing BJJ for over eight years, with all the usual breaks (injuries, work, lack of motivation, etc) in between. For those not used to practice, it is a grappling martial art with no striking (punches or kicks). Its ultimate objective is to neutralize the opponent with chokes or breaking/dislocating some of the main joints of their body.
It sounds rough, but the practice is done in a very safe manner through tapping out. Tapping out signals to the attacker that he is successful in his attempt and the choke or lock should be released as no escape is possible.
1 — Trusting others
For long-term practice, it is necessary to balance learning an effective technique (strength and precision) and where it lays its safety limits. When practicing a choke, you want to make sure that the movement that you are doing is right. For that, your training partner shouldn’t tap out just of the threat of an attack. It should be used only when the submission is in a position where, if further held for a few more seconds, the movement would cause the training partner to end up unconscious or with a broken limb.
This safe control of tapping out reinforces that during the training, both parties feel safe to practice and give their best without holding back from the fear of going too far while trying their attacks.
This balance allows me to go 100%, competing and knowing that in the worst-case scenario, I just need to tap. Sometimes, you can also say “tap”, as your arms might be immobilized, and your opponent will release it. In one piece, we will start again, over and over…
2 — Efficiency does not have a face
It is no surprise that we use visual clues to evaluate situations and people. Most of the time, our protection mechanisms will keep our physical and mental integrity. We assess danger on an unconscious level. Size and aggressiveness, along with our reactions, can define how vulnerable we are in a possible physical confrontation.
But BJJ is based on the power of leverage.
Every takedown and submission controls your and the other person’s center of mass, using positions to impose a disproportionate force against a joint or neck. A good technique has an overwhelming chance to work as the fight mechanics are very predictable while pinning down the opponent.
The power of leverage can offer unique experiences, such as open-weight divisions in competitions and training, where there is no weight bracket, and everyone fights based on skill and stamina, like the very first MMA events.
This skill capacity against strength can make a well-trained fighter take down and control someone bigger and more aggressive. After many years of practicing, I had quite a few experiences of misreading opponents by their looks. Over time, I realized that especially in Nogi (without kimono and belts), it is almost impossible to know how good someone can be by appearance and behavior.
Some of the examples of Davids against Goliaths:
3 — Indirect affection
The amount of body connection in BJJ is the highest I ever seen in any other sport. Because its practice has been in my culture since childhood, I often became blind to its unique mechanics.
Being glued to an adversary on the floor can mimic the effect of a snake’s constriction. Some other people would instead use the analogy of drowning. During the practice, you need to get used to having your body entangled with your training partners in ways you could never imagine that would be possible. The result that it brings is physical awareness; whether you are conscious or not, you start to feel rather than think about your moves and techniques.
While the practice sharpens the connection between what you feel and how you react, indirectly, whatever is stored in the body in the form of stiffness, tension, or blockage slowly finds its path to release. A common reaction of beginners is the spazzyness, as they feel under imminent threats at any second. The result of the high defense tension all the time is exhaustion.
Only after feeling safe and trusting your skills a sense of playfulness might take over. At the moment that the body is not only trying to keep itself protected, a sense of joy will more likely happen, and some personal fighting style may emerge. At this point, it will be easier to adjust the pace for every roll and training partner.
Now, all the closeness is part of a body chess game. You are trained to be comfortable where most people would feel uneasy. Kindness might arise where, before, it was only a fight or flight mode.
4 — Resilience as the journey
Resilience in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is not merely about the physical capacity to withstand chokes and locks but the mental and emotional fortitude developed over time. It’s about showing up on the mats even when you feel at your lowest — when your joints ache and your muscles call for rest. It is said that when the body can barely use its muscles, you only have your technique and heart.
The swollen ears and callused fingers become symbols of a journey that has pushed you beyond what you thought possible. This journey is personal; it’s a path where pain transforms into progress, and each tap-out becomes a lesson rather than a defeat. Resilience is the quiet acknowledgment of your evolution every time you stand up to try again, understanding that growth is cumulative and every practice, no matter how small, adds to your journey.
5 — Enjoying the ride
As the adage goes, ‘It’s not the destination, but the journey that matters.’ In Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, enjoying the ride involves constant learning and the pleasure of rolling.
As you gain experience, your movements and defenses become more predictable to yourself, allowing you to move with intention and purpose. There’s a distinct satisfaction in visiting other gyms, stepping onto new mats, and sparring with unknown fighters. It’s in these moments that one can test your adaptability and playfully engage in the art.
You learn to control the pace of the fight, to play when you can, and to unleash aggressiveness when the situation demands it. The joy comes from the balance of knowing you can handle what comes and the excitement of the unknowns before each touch of hands. The mat becomes a place of play as much as a battleground.
In the gentle embrace of Brazilian jiu-jitsu, I found not just a sport but a restoring journey that transcended the physical. On the mats, amidst the grappling and the rolling, I uncovered hidden chapters of mental resilience and emotional healing. The power of touch — a grip, a hold, a submission — became a language of connection that spoke to my guts. It taught me about trust, not just in the physical safety of a tap-out but in the vulnerability and strength of my mental state.
With each entanglement, like serpents, the mental knots of anxiety and tension began to unravel, releasing what I wasn’t even aware of. I learned to feel rather than think. This body chess was not just about the next move but understanding and healing the self. The mat became a sacred place where the touch of another person was not a trigger but a treatment, a shared journey towards something beyond the physical battle.
The mat, indeed, was therapy — the belts or the trophies do not mark the mental journey of BJJ, but by its silent victories over one’s shadows, the capacity to breathe through discomfort, and the ability to rise, both in body and heart, after each fall.
The title of this article was inspired by the name used in this beautiful video made by Fifty Six Media
EXTRA: My favorite highlight video in the art of grappling, by Stuart Copper.
