Navigating Life from the Bottom: My Conversation with a Jiu-Jitsu Brown Belt, Musician, and Photographer

I recently sat down with one of my favorite jiu-jitsu instructors, a man who wears many hats—guitarist, photographer, cinematographer, golfer, and martial artist. His name is Nate Holstrom. He shared with me the secret sauce of surviving—and thriving—both on and off the jiu-jitsu mats. Let’s just say if you think you can “just stand up” while someone’s holding you down, you might be in for a humbling surprise.

(Yes, that was a gentle jab at my former white-belt mindset of “I’ll just out-muscle the guy.” To be fair, at one point I really believed that wholeheartedly. And if believing counts for anything, I was basically a Kung Fu Panda in my own head.)

From Music Dreams to Jiu-Jitsu Realities

Nate’s life story isn’t just about grips, chokes, and takedowns. Growing up, he was steeped in music. Inspired by his father, an accomplished musician who passed away when Nate was in his early 20s, he took up the guitar. He dove so deep into songwriting that it may or may not have been the driver for the loss of a serious relationship. Sometimes, chasing a dream can cost you something else precious, and for Nate, that meant learning a huge lesson: even a passion like music can burn you out when you’re too close to the fire.

Of course, stepping back from music didn’t mean stepping away from creativity. By day (and plenty of nights, too), Nate is a freelance photographer and cinematographer, capturing weddings, documentaries, portraits, and more. There’s a reason half his life is spent with a camera in his hands and the other half with a gi on—he is always honing his craft, staying creative, and pushing his limits.

The Door-Knock That Led to Martial Arts

Back in his early 20s, Nate was dealing with his father’s passing, unsure of how to find focus. Enter his dad’s longtime friend, who may or may not have been part superhero. The man knocked on Nate’s door day after day, urging him to try kickboxing. Nate finally gave in—partly out of curiosity, partly to stop the daily door-pound. That single decision kicked off a whole new world of martial arts for him. One day he found himself pinned under a jiu-jitsu blue belt who was heavier, stronger, more skilled, and thoroughly uninterested in letting him stand up.

I’ll admit, the first time I had someone effortlessly pin me, all I could think was, “Why don’t I just do some wild thrash move like I saw in that old kung fu movie?” Let’s say it didn’t go exactly how I pictured. My illusions disappeared as quickly as my air supply. Nate had that same moment of clarity—and realized that a technical skill set beats raw aggression any day of the week.

Starting in Bad Positions on Purpose

So here’s the “secret sauce” from Nate’s class that changed how I see jiu-jitsu and, frankly, life: we begin every practice in one of the worst positions possible. Sometimes that’s your opponent fully on your back, sometimes it’s them sitting on your chest like you’re a medieval catapult.

The reason? You only learn how to escape if you start in the territory that terrifies you. It’s the same in photography (one of Nate’s other professional arenas). If you’re only used to snapping photos on sunny days in full auto mode, your first low-light wedding or nighttime event might go terribly. By constantly dealing with crummy lighting, weird angles, or unpredictable action, you get comfortable with what used to send you into panic mode. And yes, that means jiu-jitsu teaches me to survive—and sometimes even thrive—when I’m pinned down with no obvious way out. (Proper escapes? Hard to remember when you’re gasping for oxygen.)

Community Over Conflict

We spoke a lot about how jiu-jitsu fosters an incredible sense of camaraderie. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing highlight reels of savage rolling sessions. But for Nate—and for me—turning training partners into family is half the fun. After all, you’re basically trusting one another with your limbs and your consciousness. A little bond-building is bound to happen.

Nate’s passion extends to building up the entire local community. He’s learned from experience that the same “don’t give up” attitude we cultivate on the mats applies to our neighborhoods. Everybody benefits when you help others find their footing.

Facing Fear to Stay Faithful

We dove into some heavy talk on spirituality, too. Nate grew up attending various churches and faith communities, but after his dad passed away, he drifted away from religion. Over the last few years, though, he’s been rediscovering his faith with a renewed sense of purpose.

It sounds a lot like stepping into jiu-jitsu as a white belt. You don’t fully understand what’s happening, you’re nervous, but you show up anyway. Each class, each bible study or spiritual conversation, reveals something new about yourself. Maybe you don’t always love what you see, but you learn to face it head-on. The biggest revelation for me personally? Letting go of the idea that I always have to “fix” people. Sometimes, the best way to help is to give them space to figure things out on their own.

Self-Defense Versus Real Life

Now, if you ever want a real dose of humility, try being in a lockdown situation or facing a legitimate emergency and realize you’re not ready. When the world spins out of control, do you have a plan? Nate joked about stocking up on essential supplies, firearms, and jiu-jitsu skill (the trifecta of any decent apocalypse kit). Sure, we’re mostly joking—nobody wants to actually choke a zombie in a real crisis—but it all boils down to personal responsibility.

We realized that “protecting your family” goes way beyond just throwing a punch. It’s about having the awareness, resources, and plan in place. It’s about mental resilience. And it’s about not being so naive as to think that nothing could ever go wrong. A little readiness never hurt anyone—except, well, the hypothetical bad guys.

Lessons for Life, One Stripe at a Time

Believe me, I’m the poster child for “no stripes, no problem.” I’ll never forget daydreaming about skipping stripes altogether and magically levitating to a nice new blue belt. I used to envision my coach waving a magic wand like, “Congrats, you did it!” Let’s just say I’m still daydreaming. In the real world, you have to show up, learn, fail, repeat—and that belt weighs heavier with every promotion.

The beauty is in the process. We’re not supposed to be “experts” overnight. Whether it’s music, photography, martial arts, or building your spiritual life, the real magic happens in the trenches. Or in jiu-jitsu terms, you only learn to escape mount by getting crushed there over and over. Eventually, you see the pattern, time your moves, and find your freedom.

Why We Never Give Up

Nate left me with one final gem: “Don’t give up.” Sounds simple, right? But it’s the difference between leveling up and never leaving your couch. The difference between listening to your guitar collect dust and writing another song. The difference between stepping onto the mat or sitting on the sidelines forever saying, “I could probably do that.” Life is going to throw its cross-collar choke at us whether we like it or not. It’s not about avoiding the choke—it’s about learning to survive it until the opportunity shows up to turn the tables.

Wrapping Up: Embrace the Bad Positions

If there’s a moral to this interview (besides “don’t let a 40-something Hell’s Angels tough guy jump guard on you”), it’s this: You can’t improve without adversity. Whether it’s a mount in jiu-jitsu, a tricky photo shoot with horrible lighting, or a tough spot in your personal spiritual journey—it’s all about facing the uncomfortable head-on.

So here’s my parting advice, gleaned from the hours I spent listening to Nate’s story and grappling with him on the mat:

• Seek community that challenges you to grow rather than worship your comfort.

• Don’t avoid failure; see it as an essential pit stop on the road to success.

• And by all means, keep a sense of humor. (We can’t all be Conor McGregor-level cocky, but we can at least crack a dad joke or two while pinned under mount.)

Before you go, remember: the next time you think, “I can just stand up,” you might want to take a breath and rethink. That’s usually the exact moment someone’s about to lock on a submission. Stay humble, stay curious, and keep showing up—even if you currently have zero stripes on your belt.

Cheers to forging real connections on and off the mat.