As I recall my various teachers only one stands out its the quintessential martial artist - Grandmaster Bong Soo Han. I met Master Han in the early seventies when he opened his first Hapkido dojang in a store front on Santa Monica Boulevard. He had only a handful of students and was struggling to make ends meet. I recall meeting Jackie Chan there one day working out with an instructor who had rented the dojang for a few hours.

I have very little recollection of my first meeting with Master Han other than I was impressed by his quiet authority expressed in everything he said and did. No movement or word was superfluous. I soon learned that he was a martial artist from the old school: he had learned Hapkido from his master in Korea who, in turn, learned it from a master who had been taught by a long continuous line of other masters.

I was nearing fifty, two decades older than he, when I started to study with Master I-Ian. I had already become reasonably Proficient in other styles, so I was impatient to attain some ability in Hapkido. Early on in classes Master Han recognized my impatience and the fact that I was getting discouraged.

One day following a workout, Master Han invited me to have tea with him in a local restaurant. After he had served the tea, he gave me one of my first lessons in the philosophy of the arts. "You will never learn to do anything well in life unless you are willing to give yourself time," he said. "I believe you are accustomed to having everything come easily to you, but this is not the way of life or the martial arts."

"I try to be patient," I responded.

"We are not talking about patience," he answered. "To be patient is to have the capacity of calm endurance. To give yourself time is to actively work toward a goal without setting a limit on how long you will work."

He had touched the core of my problem. I had, in truth, given myself a set amount of time to become reasonably familiar with Hapkido. I was becoming frustrated because Hapkido has thousands of techniques. Mastery of just one sometimes took months of continuous practice. When I eliminated the deadline for learning from my mind it was like removing a weight from my body.

At the time I was writing a book and the work was going slowly. That frustrated me. Writing was my livelihood and it had always come easily to me so I had set an arbitrary deadline for completing the book. Thanks to Master Han's calm words I realized that my focus was wrong. I was doing what I had been doing with my Hapkido study. I should have concerned myself with the process of working on the book rather than its completion.

Some time later Master Han gave me another lesson in Zen, one which I easily translated from the dojang to life. I was writing another book and the work was constantly on my mind, even when working out.

"Your mind was elsewhere," Master Han told me as I was leaving the dojang one day. "You must learn to live in the present, not in the future or the past. Zen teaches us that life must be seized at the moment. By living in the present you are in full contact with yourself and your environment, your energy is not dissipated and is always available. In the present there are no regrets as there are in the past. When thinking of the future, you dilute the present. The time to live is now.

"As long as what you are doing at the moment is exactly what you are doing at that moment and nothing else, you are one with yourself and what you are doing. And that is Zen: while doing something you are doing it at the fullest."

When I returned home that day I wrote on a small filing card, "Seize life at the moment," and thumbtacked it over my desk. That card, yellowed by age, is now framed and on my study wall.

Until then, none of my instructors had ever before mentioned Zen. My curiosity was aroused enough by Master Han's words so that I began to read about the philosophy that is the basis of all true martial and "warrior" arts. In time I came to understand that when the mind, body and spirit are in harmony there is almost nothing one cannot accomplish. That study culminated in publication of my book, Zen in the Martial Arts. In it I wrote about Master Han several times concluding one chapter with, " a session with master Han is not just a workout, it is also a lesson in life. I always feel enriched after leaving his dojang."

But I learned more than Zen and Hapkido over the years from Master Han who is now a good friend and mentor.

For instance, in the martial arts community there is a great deal of back-biting, but Master Han is one of the few masters I have met who has never said an unkind word about another instructor or another style. He has only praise for his colleagues and the other styles.

In truth, I have never heard him speak unkindly about anyone. I know that he has been severely disappointed by some of his students, but probe as I have, I never heard him speak disparagingly about any one of them - or anyone else.

While I was studying with Master Han he became celebrated as fight choreographer and double for Tom Laughlin in two "Billy Jack" films, and then went on to star in other films. As anyone who has ever seen him is aware, Master Han has a striking presence, a by-product of self-confidence, and is instantly recognizable. As a Samurai maxim claims, "A man who has attained mastery of an art reveals it in his every action."

Master Han was constantly being asked for autographs. I was with him on several occasions when he was accosted by young fans. His patience with them never ceased to amaze me in contrast to the behavior of many lesser known personalities.

One day I asked him how he could remain so patient with the many demands on his time. We were then having tea in his office and I noticed on his desk an unopened letter from Korea that had just arrived in the morning mail. I expected him to excuse himself and read the letter at once, but he put the letter aside. "Why don't you read your letter from home?" I asked. "I'll wait."

"I am doing what I would do had I been alone," he said. "I am putting the letter aside until I conquer haste. Then when I open it, it will be as though it is something precious."

I thought over what he said for a moment and finally remarked that I didn't know what such patience led to. "It leads to this," he said. "Those who are patient in the trivial things in life and control themselves will one day have the same mastery in great and important things."

Sadly, 1 never did earn a black belt in Hapkido. I was too stiff to master the kicks which are essential to pass the stringent requirements. But I did learn more than martial art technique from observing and spending time with Master Han.

There is an elegance about everything he does, from entering a restaurant, addressing an audience, or defeating an opponent, that I have tried to emulate in my personal life. I acquired some skill in his art, but more important to me, I learned patience.