Morning breaks and I’m wide awake. I didn’t sleep much, but I do feel better. Sometime through the night, I made a decision that I’m going to start doing something. Having even a little goal and direction has made me feel much better. I’m going to find out more about these rocks, if there is anything to this training stuff, and use this ‘Special Status’ ID to my advantage. I was laughing to myself a couple of times while I was trying to go to sleep, remembering different comedians that would act out issues pretending to have disabilities. Disabilities and the problems people suffer through are not funny, but I kept thinking about Lilly trying to make me do something in public while I would pretend and accuse her of some abuse.

Dressed in some loose clothing I head out towards the gym. Lucky for me I spot the older gentleman who was talking to me about Jaxx. “Lilly says I have to be accompanied by an Iron rank or above to be permitted in the gym. Is it ok if I go with you?” I ask.

He looks at me while using his ID to activate the lock. “Why?”

“Because I need to punch something.”

Smiling, he holds the door for me. “You’re supposed to stay in the main room, but there are a couple of bags in that room there.” He points. “Be careful, keep it light, and don’t hurt yourself. Ask if you don’t know, or if you want to learn how to use something.”

I smile and nod in understanding. I should ask his name but he is already walking away. It is a good size gym with some free weights and equipment made differently than what I have used before. An Engineer by trade, I understand the function and the movement of the different pieces of equipment. What I find interesting is the energy storage and how the movement is resisted, because I don’t see how it is done. Normally, there would be a weight or a spring to pull or push against. Even if you went Rube Goldberg, and I like Rube Goldberg, there are no magnets, torsion bars, electrical or fluid dynamics, not even any magic rocks. Another thing to add to my list, but later. Now, I am just going to work my muscles a bit to relieve some tension.

After doing a once-through on the different pieces of equipment, I head over to the heavy bags. The door has been chocked open with a free weight and there is no one here. Looking for some gloves, pads, or anything to protect my hands, I find nothing, so I start punching the bag lightly. You might think I would know how to practice spar with a heavy bag, but I don’t. I know enough to keep my wrists straight. I was in some ‘Tae Kwon Do’ for a few months when I was thirteen or so. Then again, some other combination ‘soft/hard’ style I was trying to learn in my early twenties. The Master there was female. I had thought at first that because she was a female, she would be more skillful than strong and I would learn techniques that would help me defeat larger and stronger opponents. I quickly found out how much I really ‘sucked’ at sparing and that our instructor was both skillful and strong. Swinging around weapons made out of hard wood instead of pine or fiberglass strengthened her up. Reminded me of my dad, he had that ‘old man grip’ strength you hear about sometimes. That strength was from him growing up on a farm, and constantly using hand tools doing labor work. Even as a teen, we used to laugh and play where I would be trying to get some hammer that he was using out of his hand. I would sometimes get close to getting it out, but he would just pick me up with one hand. I would hold on until my hands gave out and I slipped off.

Suddenly I notice Jaxx standing next to me, watching me strike the heavy bag. I have just been straight-punching. I don’t think I am supposed to be here. I stop. “Lilly said it was alright for me to come in, as long as someone was here with me”

“Don’t care” Jaxx says. “Keep punching the bag”

Slowly, lightly, at first. Then harder like I was before. Still just straight punching the heavy bag.

“No.” He says. “Like you were before, with intent.” Authority in his voice.

I start striking the bag harder than I was before. Hard enough now that it would be like a couple of buddies hitting each other in the arm until one gives in.

“Stop” he commands, more like a strict coach or a trainer. “That is not what you were doing before. I said with intent!”

“Yes sir” I respond showing respect for my elders.

He continues “I have not seen the ‘Way of the Hand’ for a long time. You are not a monk. How do you know this? Punch the bag!”

I punch the bag some more, just straight punches, doing what I was doing before.

He snorts a little and walks out of the room. About a minute later he is back, with a wooden sword in his hand. “Look,” he says. He starts straight punching the heavy bag with his hand that is not holding the sword. Striking much harder than I was, or even what I thought he was capable of. “Do you see the difference?” He asks.

“Yes.” I reply.

He is looking at me and glancing at my ID.

“Look.” he says. I step back as he brings the wooden sword up across his chest. He is still mostly facing me. He swings out with a level horizontal blow to the bag, making a ‘smacking’ sound as it flattens out the leather against the blade.

‘Smack, Smack, Smack’ Jaxx keeps hitting the blade against the heavy bag, only flexing his arm at the elbow. ‘Smack, Smack, Smack’ continuing to hit the heavy bag.

“Look.” he says commanding my attention. ‘Smack, SMACK, Smack, Smack’ continuing to hit the heavy bag like the beat of a drum.

“Look” again he says while beating the heavy bag in a monotone rhythm. ‘SMACK, Smack, Smack, Smack, SMACK, Smack, Smack’ It all sounds the same to me, but I see the difference. There is a change in some of his strikes. ‘SMACK, Smack, Smack, Smack, SMACK, Smack’. There it is again. The force is the same, the sound is the same, but in the strike, there is a snap, a focus, an intent.

I look down into the palms of my hands with a realization that it is not speed or power or some fancy technique. Yes, it is all those things, but it is also something more. I look at his sword with a realization that he is channeling this through a piece of wood, extending a part of himself into and through it. This is the difference when all else appears the same.

Jaxx has stopped striking the bag. Stepping back, he points with his sword “Punch the bag.”

I step up to the bag, one fist out, touching the bag, judging my distance. I begin to hit the bag trying to focus on what I had seen and remember what it was, that Jaxx was seeing before. Nothing fancy, just straight punches. It was not the same crisp smack sound of the sword, but mostly the sound of a dull thud. ‘thud, thud, thud, thud’ And then it hits. ‘thud, thud, Thud, thud’. I see Jaxx turn a smile as I continue to punch the bag. ‘thud, thud, thud, Thud, thud’. This time with the other hand.

Stopping, I turn to Jaxx “Thank you”.

“How do you know this?” He asks, looking me straight in the eyes.

“I took some classes to learn how to fight. We would spar and practice with each other to learn how to defend ourselves in different situations”

“Ba!” Jaxx exclaims, waving a dismissive hand through the air. “This is not something you learn fighting at nothing in the air. I know what it takes, how you acquire and progress in these things. And I don’t see that from you. You are not Elf or Dwarf, to be born with these things. Even if you were, ‘The way of the Hand’ is a gift to men, proving that you are of the race of man.

Holding up and out his sword, the tip about eye level, and staring into the wooden blade, he continues “I have spent most of my life devoted to ‘The way of the sword’. I chose this path and I was fortunate enough to attain it. Now that I am old, it is the way to pass what we have learned to the young.” Turning and holding out the silver ID around his neck to me. “I am not angry with you. I am frustrated with myself because I have not been able in all these years to attain what I have so long desired. I am capped, but do not understand why. I have fulfilled the conditions five times over, yet remain where I am. You have progressed but by a path different from what I know. It is a different path and maybe knowing some details of it, will help me understand what I have missed.”

Lowering his blade, the fire fading from his now downcast eyes, a more somber look on his face. I hold out my hand for the sword. He slowly hands it to me pommel first. Taking it, I step back and to the opposite side of the heavy bag. Facing him I start to strike the heavy bag with the flat of the blade, in the same way, I saw moments before. ‘smack, smack.’ After a couple of strikes, he has recovered his composure. Nodding his head once goodbye, Jaxx turns and begins walking out of the room. As he starts to cross the threshold into the main room, he is stopped by a familiar sound. ‘smack, smack, Smack.’ He turns to me “That is not possible.”

Still facing Jaxx as he was walking out, we are now standing looking at each other. Jaxx has the ‘What the F***’ eyes looking at me. He says “No man can have two masters. No man two paths. How do you also know of this, Doug? Your training starts this time tomorrow. Don’t make me come looking for you. I will know your mettle and if this path is true.” He turns spinning on the ball of one foot and exits the room.

I am not sure what to think. I think I am going to be here tomorrow for some training. That’s what I wanted, right? “Good job.” I say to myself, not sure if I want to be doing this.