Just after sunset in Northern Iraq, Kurdistan, and my belly is full and the stars are out...
You don’t want what’s in my head. You may think you do. You don’t. I know some things. Things about me, about the world. Things that normally get called some pretty high falutin’ names.
Martial artists, especially, think that they want this stuff. Some have spent years training wondering “Could I really…” and “What would it be like if…”
They think I know. A few think I can tell them. I wouldn’t even if I could. What I know for and about me might never be true for you. And it would be only words. One of the things I know is that the words don’t matter.
So I go the cheap route. I tell stories. I drill skills. Try to show a few people how to learn, how to think. That’s easy, really. The physical is easy. I try to tell them what they don’t know- that the parts that are easy are the small stuff. You’ll never be good enough not to die. Everybody dies.
If you know, you will never be sure. Sure is for the uninitiated.
Played with someone today- he's possibly the best instructor I have seen in the country. A damn good man, a good fighter (and the way I rank that it means something very specific. He has survived... stuff) In close quarters unarmed stuff he was like a toy, a puppet. That's artificial, we were cognizant of not hurting each other and weapons were off the table, though we both had them in easy reach.... still.
Outweighed by over a hundred pounds and the threat gets the first move at close range and I don't even have to fight, just steal his balance so that he can't move in any direction without setting himself to faceplant on concrete. I'm not fighting anymore, just physically making others incapable of fighting.
I want to spar with Mac. That means I am on some kind of threshold. I feel that Dave Sumner is still the best fighter I have ever studied with (sorry, Rener; sorry Mr. Lewis) but Mac can stop action and say, "About eight moves ago, when you did X, your eyes changed. What were you feeling? What were you thinking?" He teaches more and at a deeper level than anyone I know. One of the few, maybe the only one who can directly teach spirit and awareness.
Hisssssss everyone teaches spirit! But they don't. Most can't even see it. Or when they do they go piddling in their little pants and run away. Mac can not only see it, but make you see it- good and bad. You can't improve what you can't sense.
Speaking of seeing what you are seeking and piddling in your pants and running away... but that's not a story for public consumption...
There is nothing special here. I am an ordinary, average guy (OAG). When I was younger I was far faster than average and somewhat smarter than average and that gave me an edge, but that is all. Partially through curiosity, partially something else (it changed as I aged) I just started doing things. They happened to be the things that other people sometimes dream about. They were the kind of things that caught my imagination when I devoured Edgar Rice Burroughs and Jules Verne and H. Rider Haggard. I learned a lot and it triggered more curiosity and I went deeper and learned more... but in the end I am an OAG who has done some things... and can no longer stomach reading fiction.
The 'something else' that changed: Late at night, driving through Bend I heard a scream and bailed out of the car searching on foot to find what was the matter, who was in danger. My cousin in the car was shocked. Everyone thinks about doing something but he considered it pathological that I actually did. People think about it. Some, maybe most, fantasize about it. But if no one does anything, there will be far too many innocent women and children bleeding. My cousin made it clear that it was cool to dream about (watch it in movies, read it in books, lull yourself to sleep fantasizing) but in the eyes of the normal world it was crazy and stupid to actually do anything. That sickened me, but if it was left to the crazy to do what needed to be done, I'd be as crazy as I needed to be.
It's all words. Anything I write is academic. In the morning (it's about 2000 here) I'll strap on a gun and go to work. Then I'll take the gun off for the real work. That will be real.