Ron Mohr, Sifu and brilliant martial artist, often spoke to us about perfect practice and repetition blending the mind and the movement until they became one.
Ten thousand motions
Seasons, balanced, unchanging
Bruce Lee, movie star, martial artist philosopher, once said:
“Self-knowledge involves relationship. To know oneself is to study one self in action with another person. Relationship is a process of self evaluation and self revelation. Relationship is the mirror in which you discover yourself – to be is to be related.”
― Bruce Lee
Under the watchful eye of Sifu Mohr, we watched and studied movement balance and footwork. We learned our limits, we learned ten thousand things. Understand that life is a dance, and become a master of it.
a triplet…can you find the third haiku? Read the rest of this entry »
I can see others with an eagle’s eye. Read the rest of this entry »
sometimes simple pleasures are the best… Read the rest of this entry »
pressure molds us, do we have the will to
Atlas strains against its weight
gently swaying grass
think, type, send, then wait
each second seems an eon
airplanes laugh at miles
choose now, declaring oaths
draw blood, clasp hands, mingled souls
all roads lead to Rome
memories of her
linger like tears on my cheek
frost within my heart
summer warms my soul
verdant fields, abundant fruit
sweet taste of your kiss
The parachutes are military surplus, giant silken umbrellas with a choice of colors as long as you favor camouflage green. I realize trust is getting into an old beat up airplane with a parachute packed by someone else. I hope they were having a good day.
Used boots from the pile
lace them tight and high my boy
jumping off of tables
Little turtles with our shells upon our backs, training completed and ready to go. Just like jumping off the table, hit and roll, not much to it they comfort us. Oh – and try not to land in the corn field, makes our neighbors mad. The equipment is old and worn, but the people here are proud and have prepared us well.
blue and white Cesna
little airplane tired and worn
one little motor
About five or six of us are in the plane as like the “little engine that could”, she groans to life and rumbles down the runway. Once airborn she transforms into a graceful swan soaring over the countryside. I am the first and at about 3,000 feet the pilot tells me to unlatch the door. Reaching out the door whips up as the wind nearly pulls me out of the plane. I glance back at the pilot and he smiles… Position he yells, and out onto the strut I go, the cold wind howling in my face as I stand, one foot on the strut one up, two hands holding the wing brace ready to push off on his signal.
No graceful exit
from the last safe tiny perch
Not swan, bowling ball
I look up and….
silky brown flower
windblown peaceful drifting day
tasting the silence