My opponent snarls and lunges at me. I know no fear. Deftly, I slip aside and with the liquid motion of a
serpent, redirect his
angry energy. The smooth motion ends abruptly in my firm
wristlock. My enemy’s surprised
stupor is short-lived; I have incapacitated him with a
willow-leaf palm and an ear-piercing cry of “
Kia!”
The opponent falls to the ground, pity fills my heart, but another opponent arises. The process is repeated over and over. At some point in the cycle, I cease to be aware of The Opponent. Eventually, I cease to be aware of myself. 'I' is lost in other identities. I am a ninja creeping in the night, then a noble samurai sacrificing life for honor, then a Neolithic warrior proclaiming victory of the hunt, then all at the same time. These identities also fade. I think no thoughts and feel only the fury of my movements and the rhythm of my kata. Permeating even this is a feeling which transcends sensation or emotion. It is a calm and it is beautiful.
cc Matt Strauss