I’ve told this story several times, but it’s a defining moment in my life. One of those sliding door moments of, what if I went the other way? That’s a bit dramatic because it would have happened sooner or later unless I completely quit taiji, but still.
Let me back that train up a bit. When I first started taiji, I was looking far something to back up my swagger. I was able to carry myself with pseudo-confidence, but if anyone actually approached me, I would be screwed. I didn’t care about the health or mental health aspects (still don’t, although I am grateful that they are added benefits) and I really had no interest in weapons. I just wanted to know the martial arts aspects and how I could defend myself if need be.
The first time I tried deer-horn knives, I was intrigued and loved them, but the flash image of me killing an opponent while walking the circle shook me. When my teacher explained that it was a positive, my brain saying that I was worth fighting for. I loved the knives, but I put them down when I was ready to meditate again (or rather, gave them back to my teacher) and rarely thought about them again.
Until that fateful day. It was after I learned the Solo Form and didn’t know what was coming up next. My teacher told me that it was time to start the weapons, meaning the sword, and I literally recoiled in horror. I had no interest in weapons because I was not an aggressive person. Yes, that was my thought at the time. Who but an aggressive, angry, snarling, raging asshole would be interested in weapons?
Here’s where the story starts, the official story, I mean. My teacher told me it was time to start learning the Sword Form. I demurred. I had a million reasons why I didn’t want to do this, but the bottom line was that it weirded me out. She picked up a wooden sword and held it out to me. I refused. She literally pressed it in my hand and told me to just hold it for a few seconds.
Side note: My teacher is incredibly patient with me. She knows I’m contrary, cranky, and resistant to new things. She rolls with it, pushing me when I need to be pushed and explaining things I need explained.
The second my hands closed over the hilt of the sword, I never wanted to let go. I knew this was what I was meant to do; I have never had that kind of kinetic connection with anything in my life. It felt like an extension of my hand and I never wanted to let go.
That’s the story I usually tell and it’s a nicely self-contained tale if I do say so myself. What I normally don’t add is that weapons have slowly taken over my life. I might tell the also-amusing story about how shortly thereafter, I was at my teacher’s studio’s demo where there was the owner from the now-defunct Minnesota Karate Supply. He had a rack with about four swords on it and I gravitated towards one. I asked if I could pick it up and when I did, I knew it was mine. I asked how much it was. He laughed and said I had picked the most expensive one. Well, of course, I did. I’m cheap as fuck, but I also have expensive tastes. That means that while I can identify the most expensive item in a bunch, I don’t usually buy it. In this case, however, I knew I’d have this sword for the rest of my life, so I rationalized the price.
For a few years, the sword was my life and it’s all I ever wanted. Once I was done learning the Sword Form, my teacher wanted to teach me the Sabre Form. That did not go well at all for several reasons, and we set it to the side for a few years. Then, right before the pandemic started, we picked it back up again. Or was it a few months before the pandemic started? I can’t remember because the Before Times seem like a dream right now. Either way, my teacher taught some of it before the pandemic hit. No way we were going to be able to continue in-person private lessons so we migrated to Zoom. Hm. Did she teach me all of the Sabre Form before lockdown? I cannot remember.
At any rate, sometime during our in-person private lessons, we branched out into other weapons as well. She had started teaching the Cane Form in group classes so I know the first row of that. I had seen her demonstrate the karambit, so she taught me that as well. I know five of six rows and am only waiting on the last row because she’s not sure of it herself. Her teacher has a video of him doing it so I could study it myself, but it’s hard to really get it from a video. I probably could, but I have enough other things to practice at the moment. If we have another year of lockdown, then we’ll talk about it.
At the last demo which was just prior to the lockdown, one of my teacher’s classmates did the Double Sabre Form. My teacher has shown me drills for this form using escrima sticks as well. I love it because it makes you look like a human blender when done properly. So I bought a pair of escrima sticks and she’s showing me the drills.
Oh! We cannot forget my beloved deer-horn knives. She had a spare pair and gave them to me–physically distancing with masks, of course. That’s bagua, another internal martial art. The karambit is not taiji, either. Walking the circle with my deer-horn knives is still meditation to me. In fact, weapons are in general. I hate meditation. Standing, anyway. We’re not talking about that because I’ve gone over that many times, too. I was talking to my teacher in my last private lesson and I said that weapons were my meditation. They are my happy place and they have become such a big part of my life.
The newest is the spear/staff. I always write it like that because it’s the same piece of equipment used to do the different forms. Mine is a wax wood staff that is roughly six-feet three inches long. It’s smooth in my hands and light, but it has heft to it. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s true. Anyway, the second I wrapped my hand around it, it felt so right I never wanted to let go again. I have not had this feeling since the sword and while that is my first love and will always have a special place in my heart, I will admit that my heart did an illicit little jump when I first touched the staff. THE staff, by the way. Very careful how I phrase it. Staff/spear.
I can’t explain it. I’ve tried several times, but I just can’t. How natural it feels when it’s done right and how it couldn’t be any other way. How everything aligns in my brain and I’m just so content. Not happy. Not joyful, but just at peace with myself. Most of the time, I feel out of sorts and not comfortable in my skin. When I have a weapon in my hand, especially a staff or a sword, all of that melts away.
I had to buy a wooden sword for a certain drill–I have my old one to a classmate who didn’t have one–and I decided I might as well go ahead and also get the practice twin broadsword set I’ve been eying for some time. As I placed the order, I felt a joy in my heart that was unlike anything I’d felt before. That’s when I realized that weapons are not just a thing I do–they’re part of who I am. I’m all about that weapons life and I couldn’t be happier about it. Shout-out to my taiji teacher for starting me down this road and for guiding me every step along the way.