Repetition as a Form of Change- Feminine Voice week 20

After a long respite, I began fencing again. Reading – and understanding- Fiore’s manual has reminded me how seriously I take this martial art. I wanted to start with drill work to build my strength back up again and I am more determined to train it right right from the beginning. I paid attention to what I learned from Dr James and from 41 years of getting to know the quirks of this particular make and model of human being.
Every joint in my right leg is like raw nerve. I had forgotten about my ankle- that I had severely sprained it 3 times, minorly countless others and fractured it. As I lunged, my knee and toe were in perfect align, my stance wider and my pelvis tilted too correct fleet angle. The deeper I lunge, the more my heel rolls under, my ankle not supporting the leg above it. I would still lose my balance and my knee was in grinding pain because I had forgotten about my ankle.

The first few days of physical therapy were exhausting. With every bit of focus I could muster and every muscle on the right side of my body, I slowly did 10 lean drills. I forced my ankle into proper alignment by brute force of will. I wanted to cry with the same screaming as when I injured it falling through the stage years ago. I wanted to be rescued and comforted. Who knew it took so many muscles for a foot and ankle to stay put? I can feel the work all the way up to my hip. My knee brace is too uncomfortable to wear.

And then I did it again the next night. Four days later, I think about foot alignment while walking on my breaks at work. Every step is controlled, precise, and perpetual correction. I do not roll to the outside of my heel while at standing at rest infrequently enough that I have noticed I have changed. Last night, I did 45 lean drills. For the first time in years, I had to stop an exercise because of muscle fatigue instead of knee pain.

I have added neck therapy and once these become habits, wall angels. I might not have to stop fencing after all.

Button Makers

I am in need of a pep talk today. From reading some of the rest of us, we all could use a line or two.

When I was awarded my Companion of the Argent Rapier, I was told it was because I teach women to fight- to be stronger. I have never forgotten this reason and I take it as an important responsibility. I must often remind myself that I promised to live up to that band on my arm. Promises mean more when you say them out loud. You have a witness to make your truth binding and unchangeable. A promise is a choice. I presented a choice to the women in my immediate life. I asked my students, my friends, my sister-mentors to make a promise, to me, to whomever, but most importantly to themselves
To learn to be
to teach to be
and to remain
Ever Stronger

We made buttons with our own little hands as tangible proof of word. These buttons were given to the keeping of the woman who gave me that award several years ago. I could use a view of those buttons inside that carved wooden box to remind me that no matter how defeated I feel today, I will persevere; A magical replenishment of my choice to remain Ever Stronger, a promise made out loud, and physical, unbreakable. I would reach my finger tips in to touch my words made so much stronger by the words of my sisters building up steam rolling around on a pillow of velvet. So much power is so small a thing. Like me-

To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far

To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march into Hell
For a heavenly cause

And I know if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest

And the world will be better for this
That one woman, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with her last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable star

Synchronicity - feminine voice dare

Synchronicity –
Rule # 2 Two objects cannot occupy the same place at the same time. Two thoughts can.

Prudentia is as Athena. The masculine science of Prudentia is the understanding of measure and tempo- my mind’s keen perception of Where my opponent is and exactly how long it will take me to dispatch him. Her feminine art, her improvisational wisdom of the When is painted with my eyes and by my body.

After time consuming mulling over, I rather suddenly understand the definition by Rudolfo Capo Ferro; “tempo is the measure of movement or stillness”.
Seeing stillness had eluded me. You don’t often see a fencer stop in the midst of any play. Where is all the stillness I need to see? It’s found at the other end of my blade.

Tempo measures my own stillness as well. I can not fight effectively if I do not have a frozen instant to access, a moment to reflect on how to continue. A dull axe cuts inefficiently. Hone to hewn. Stillness to movement. Fiore’, Capo Ferro, and the rest change their frustration to a sigh of relief. My realization is more powerful than their instruction. My greater realization is to take this speck of a spark and fit it to my life outside the lyst.

Prudentia moves in her own time. She is still in her own time.
I have been writing since 1982. I have so many years of writing poetry, short essays, anecdotes, and three unfinished novels on scraps and in notebooks. I could sit down and post for days straight. But I won’t. Too many times, I have seen myself come to loathe something I loved because I became too head over heels for it. My own enthusiasm of the goal drowns the satisfaction until I am lost. Too much focus, even on joy, will sap your passion. I become too engrossed and have to walk away for my own sanity.
No, I will use what I have learned from Prudentia. Slowly, carefully, with greatest precision, I am acting within my own stillness.