Saying Sorry – Part 5
“Bide my time,” was the answer I gave.
It must have been the right one as my mother nodded before walking away to the dining room before calling me in. My dad was already in there. That was strange. Wasn’t he in the lounge fighting with mum just a minute ago? As I sat down I noticed Mum looked tidy again. Brown hair arranged neatly around her jaw line, a touch of eyeliner gracefully adorning her pretty eyes, and a hint of gloss shining on her lips. She had the air of confidence, intelligence and natural beauty that I grew to model myself on. But where was the cut on her lip? It wasn’t something she could have wiped away.
As I grew older and stronger, my training in physical skills increased, most notably in martial arts. The cellar downstairs had been converted to a dojo; a place where the principles of self-control, discipline and respect were further instilled into me. Etiquette was a critical part of the practice. No shoes on the mat, never turn your back on the life-statement, always bow to your sparring partner acknowledging their trust in you and demonstrating your trust in them. The focus was on speed of thought to deliver ‘immobilisation’. It was never on inflicting long term harm. No kicks to heads or breaking bones (too many repercussions and it only served to inspire aggression in those engaged in the fight). I was taught to move more like a dancer on a cushion of air, elegantly redirecting the force of my attacker. A brief touch on a choice nerve was enough to activate severe pain to make a person freeze into a position of fear and distress.
Once I’d understood and mastered these principles, the real training started. The training of immobilising others with mental energy. It sounded exciting when my parents explained this to me. When I was little I’d loved the thought of being a Jedi. However, much like my life, this aspect of my practice came with grey areas and blurred lines, unlike the yin yang symbol above the life statement:
“Do no harm to any person, as you yourself the first person. Through courage and non-violence, protect all sentient beings and the nature of life itself. Be always the greatest ruler, of the self and freedom, not of others.”
Every day as I recited the words before my practice, I was inspired with a noble purpose and humility. I learned fast, worked diligently and the poetic vow fired my focus and determination during the missions that started only a few years later at the age of 18…
Carly let out a big sigh and I saw the present day precipitate towards me like the bottom of a roller coaster. A few of my shards embedded in the hem of her jeans rose up and down as she walked to the local park to get some fresh air. I felt a pang of sadness rise up from the pit of her stomach, “The things I did… I’m still not past it. I was meant to have reintegrated by now. Staying silent and forgetting isn’t working. How do I work through this… Alone? I don’t think I can do it alone… James I’m scared…”
Next part of the story with verse 2 coming soon!