SteyrAUG
06-28-11, 13:52
Last night I picked up my sword again.
http://img72.imageshack.us/img72/9823/p1003656es5.jpg
For nearly 2 years it sat neglected, save for an occasional cleaning, in a Katana Kake in the back room where I last put it down.
For you see, I had gotten "busy." Work, responsibilities, obligations and a host of various other distractions had monopolized and occupied my time. This meant I was often still at my desk at 3am and when I did get to bed I would lay awake another 2 hours thinking about all the things that needed to be done.
All day long my mind would race from one matter of great importance to the next. Sometimes I would forget to eat lunch and only the inevitable headache would remind me to eat.
And today I was in the back room going through my stuff looking for something important when I noticed my Katana on it's stand. A blade I once trained with so frequently it was a part of me. Almost akin to a child I had abandoned, but more of a faithful companion I was once had.
So I took it from the back room and moved it to a place of prominence in my office.
And after dinner after tending to a few items of business I pushed away from my desk piled high with distractions and picked up my sword.
I stood in the humid night air with my blade in my obi and tried to calm my mind and focus. I performed the first drawing kata of Iai known as Mae. The weapon escaped its scabbard and performed two lethal (though still something short of flawless) cuts in the air before returning to the saya with a crisp "snick."
My katana still knew me and the movements were still there. Fortunately two years of neglect had not completely eroded two and a half decades of muscle memory. But things were still a bit off.
Within a half hour of performing draws and cuts I had tuned out all distractions. I still saw and heard the kids playing down the street. The dog running through yards. My neighbor working on his car in his driveway. The various critters that buzzed through the air around me. But my focus was on the sword.
The movements began to fall into a well worn groove of practiced skills.
Within an hour my mind didn't need to be reminded of anything and I entered a state of Mushin where the sword moved without my direct mental participation.
And within 2 hours I entered a state of Zanshin.
Everything left my mind. I was alone in the world with only the katana I held in my hands. It was a state of pureness.
It reminded my why I train. It reprimanded me for the loss of skill I suffered. And it showed me the way back. It showed me a way of life.
Every day train.
And that reminds me, I need to get my butt to the range too.
http://img72.imageshack.us/img72/9823/p1003656es5.jpg
For nearly 2 years it sat neglected, save for an occasional cleaning, in a Katana Kake in the back room where I last put it down.
For you see, I had gotten "busy." Work, responsibilities, obligations and a host of various other distractions had monopolized and occupied my time. This meant I was often still at my desk at 3am and when I did get to bed I would lay awake another 2 hours thinking about all the things that needed to be done.
All day long my mind would race from one matter of great importance to the next. Sometimes I would forget to eat lunch and only the inevitable headache would remind me to eat.
And today I was in the back room going through my stuff looking for something important when I noticed my Katana on it's stand. A blade I once trained with so frequently it was a part of me. Almost akin to a child I had abandoned, but more of a faithful companion I was once had.
So I took it from the back room and moved it to a place of prominence in my office.
And after dinner after tending to a few items of business I pushed away from my desk piled high with distractions and picked up my sword.
I stood in the humid night air with my blade in my obi and tried to calm my mind and focus. I performed the first drawing kata of Iai known as Mae. The weapon escaped its scabbard and performed two lethal (though still something short of flawless) cuts in the air before returning to the saya with a crisp "snick."
My katana still knew me and the movements were still there. Fortunately two years of neglect had not completely eroded two and a half decades of muscle memory. But things were still a bit off.
Within a half hour of performing draws and cuts I had tuned out all distractions. I still saw and heard the kids playing down the street. The dog running through yards. My neighbor working on his car in his driveway. The various critters that buzzed through the air around me. But my focus was on the sword.
The movements began to fall into a well worn groove of practiced skills.
Within an hour my mind didn't need to be reminded of anything and I entered a state of Mushin where the sword moved without my direct mental participation.
And within 2 hours I entered a state of Zanshin.
Everything left my mind. I was alone in the world with only the katana I held in my hands. It was a state of pureness.
It reminded my why I train. It reprimanded me for the loss of skill I suffered. And it showed me the way back. It showed me a way of life.
Every day train.
And that reminds me, I need to get my butt to the range too.