I’m frustrated.
I’ve been home three-and-a-half weeks, all the drugs finally out of my system. The first few weeks, I was too busy readapting to being home to really think of much of anything. And drugged up. I was feeling no pain, believe you me, and I was flying high. When I arrived home, I was pretty close to ‘normal’. I had a mild tremor in my left middle finger; I had difficulty reading fonts (and everyone’s faces were squished together. Two eyes melded into one with the lower half of the face melted into one indistinguishable lump), and; my stamina was pants. That was the biggest thing–I couldn’t do even a tenth of what I used to be able to do.
Where that showed up the most was in my taiji practice. Before the hospital (BH), I did stretches for ten minutes, form and other posture work for ten minutes, and weapons for half an hour to forty-five minutes. Now, I do stretches for fifteen minutes or more, maybe five or seven minutes of form/posture work, and…sigh.
I have a hard time thinking about the weapons, let alone talking about them. BH, I did half a Sword Form every day, alternating left and right sides. I also did the Double Sabre Form every day, doing it as a form. Every other day, I did it as a dance to a different song. Or maybe I alternated every day? That’s possible. I did one row of the Sabre Form every day, both sides. I did a full form once a week. Did I do both sides? I think? It’s hard to remember, sadly. I did the sword drills twice a week, but only one rotation over the two days. Both sides. Four rows of the Karambit Form once a week. Walking the circle with the Deerhorn Knives on two different days (one way one day and the other way the next). I was learning the Cane Form and did a row of it (which I had learned before) once a week. I was nearly done learning the second row. I knew a few staff/spear drills which I did every day as well.
When I first got home, I, of course, tried to do the Sword Form with my steel sword. That was a mistake. I made it through three or four postures (movements, but I still call them postures) before my body said, “Oh, to the hell no!” I immediately knew it was a mistake and put the sword away. A few days later, I tried it with a wooden sword, but that was still too much. I could do more, but it was so tiring.
I knew I could get the Sword Form back, both right and left side, because I’ve done it hundreds if not thousands of times. It was the first weapons form I learned and how I fell in love with the weapons in the first place. I’ve told this story countless times, but I’m going to tell it once again. My teacher tried to get me to learn the Sword Form to no avail. I was adamant that I did not want to learn the weapons, no way, no how. After countless fruitless attempts to convince me, she held a wooden sword out to me and said, “Just hold it. That’s all I ask.” I reluctantly took it in my hand and the second my fingers closed over the hilt, I knew this was what I wanted to do with my life.
I know it sounds overly-dramatic, but it’s true. That’s all it took for me to start a life-long love of weapons. There have been bumps along the way, such as the first time I learned the Sabre Form, but in general, it’s been such a joy. I’ve often described my relationship with the different weapons as if they were romantic relationships. The Sword Form is my first love that will always have a big piece of my heart. The Sabre Form is the tempestuous relationship that has its ups and downs, but you can’t quite quit it. The Karambit Form is the heady affair that takes your breath away, but you know is best in small doses.
As for the Double Sabre Form, well , that’s the epic love affair about which they write poems and sing its praises. It is the new relationship that consumes all your thoughts and energy, no matter what else is going on in your life. In the before times (hospital, that is), I was dedicated to this form. I taught myself over half of it by watching my teacher’s teacher’s video of him doing the Double Sabre Form.
I was about ready to teach myself the left side. I think I was going to give myself a bit more time before doing that (you always teach yourself the left side of the form after learning the right side) because I had finished the right side relatively recently.
Yesterday, I did the whole right side of the Sword Form with a toy sword. I wasn’t too tired by the time I finished and only lightly perspiring.
Side note: My teacher has always said that if you begin lightly perspiring while doing taiji, proceed with caution. If you break out into a heavy sweat, immediately stop. It’s a good gauge and easy to follow.
I was triumphant after finishing the whole form. The problem is, I know how much I’ve lost and it’s so hard for me not to become impatient. Stepping back and seeing the bigger picture, it’s not a surprise that my stamina is the last thing to recover. I like to make jokes about what happened because it’s my way of coping, but my body went through major trauma. In some ways, it would have been easier if there were visible signs of that trauma. I mean, yes, I had a mass of bruises on each arm when I came home, but capability-wise, I was nearly 90% when I left the hospital. I felt like I should have been able to do all the weapons forms I knew when I got home, even though I knew that was irrational.
It’s hard not to mourn what I’ve lost, even though I know I can get it back again. Which is a blessing in and of itself because before I woke up, my family members were cautioned about if I woke up, my capabilities might be dramatically diminished. They weren’t, which is great! But my ability to do anything over a sustained amount of time is gone for now.
I don’t want to gripe because I’m doing exceptionally well overall. I mean, I wasn’t predicted to wake up so that was miracle number one. The fact that I didn’t need rehab after leaving the hospital two weeks later? Miracle number two. It seems whiny for me to mention that I’m not happy about having to relearn a few weapons forms. And yet. I’m still me. Yes, I went through a life-changing event. I am not denying that. I’m still amazed I’m alive and every day is a gift. I’m not being facetious when I say that, not one bit. Ok, maybe one little bit, but it’s 99% sincere. But, I can still be petty as fuck about the mall things that irritate me, not that I’m calling my love for the weapons small.
My weapons are my life. If I could not do the weapons forms ever again, I would have a very hard time adjusting to my new life. Instead, I know it’s just a matter of time before I can do all the weapons forms again, for which I should be grateful. And I am! But also impatient. I want it all back now and it’s hard to accept it’ll be some time before I’m able to do them all again. In the end, however, that’s taiji. Taking each moment as it comes with no expectations. Easier said than done, but worth attempting.