when i woke up on tuesday morning with clear thoughts and even better defined desires, i had no idea of what was to be. on my mind, some thoughts about a man, the desires were sensuous and the flesh is weak, tender and fallible. just a few months ago, he who yesterday morning populated my desires, drew me with one gesture into a world that i ached for. a door opened.
"she enters my office, and before i can show her to the seat, she is bubbling out that she is in love. i listen, i listen attentively, i do not want to miss a word. she is in love, she is feeling alive, totally alive. it is like soaking up the sun on a cool day."
the day proceeds and i find myself in the presence of another whom i see for the first time, before i know anything, i know that i trust this man. unconditional trust. how did this happen?
i really do not care to answer all my questions. possibly i care about preciously little in this life, and possibly there are no words to convey what i care about. my quest as a writer is perhaps nothing else than the search for those words, the search for expression, the search for communication. between knowledge, concrete experiential knowledge and the ability to express and communicate that knowledge there is one huge gap, i am building the bridge across that gap.
the man of my morning thoughts who grabs me by my wrists, pins me down, and gives me no chance for escape from that which i so desire and so cowardly renounce to admit, he is far far away now.
later in the evening after encountering unqualified trust i went for a walk in the evening with my dear friend, the judge. besides me picking his brains on current legal issues, we always return to the subject of our relationships and share our experiences in an attempt to find expression to what we feel.
wednesday rolls around, and i find myself again on the tatami with my sensei. my left arm is still giving me pain, but at this point, i needed to return to the tatami. i can not explain this one. i like practice, i like the exercise of totally focusing on the moment, on what is happening in the moment, and i love the care and attention that i get, the patience with which my sensei repeatedly demonstrates a technique, until i finally start getting it, and feeling it. she never tires. then on thursday night, i just had to go to weapons practice. i walked from my office to the dojo, it is only about a 35 minute walk. all of it was enjoyable, the walk, the practice, having the jyo in my hands again. on the walk back home, remembering my other very masterful teachers who have taken me out of the class and gave me private instruction when i was much too lost with the jyo in my hands, gave me a sensation of connectedness which i do not remember from the past. i am still fond of saying that the jyo is just a stick, but i am also glad to see the smile on my sensei's face when i start to get sansho in some sort of shape, even if it is very modest progress. what gives us the bigger pleasure, receiving or giving?
but... what is pleasure?
still on tuesday night i find myself telling my nonjudgmental judge friend that i had found the man of my life, then i quickly add, for today.
