Eye Of The Storm

At first it was a rumble in the distance followed by a relief brining cool breeze. Probably would have gone unnoticed except for how the wind pushed the tops of the trees in a certain way.

Something was coming.

When the storm hit we were already at the top of the hill, swords in hand, locked in kamae, deep into our practice.

It was part of a spiritual process with the bujin, the war-gods, to practice something one hundred times for a hundred days.

To become a one-hundred-day-man.

Or woman.

For this cycle is was a particular sword pattern, aptly named thunder and lightning, about 60 or so repetitions in and it started.

Thunder and lightning, the two of us at the top of the hill cutting and moving back and forth, at that point there was nothing else.

It was a dangerous place to be, not in terms of the storm, but in terms of focus.

Being able to tune out the wind ad rain hitting you, being able to not react to not being able to see as the rain poured down your face.

Tune in.

Tune out.