While driving a loop back to Salt Lake, we enter a town that has a huge playground. We stop off because Ronan wants to play. Oh! This place is great. It had discontinued playground sets that were really fun. We all got on that metal merry go round that goes way to fast. Ronan loved it. The sets were made of wood and steel and a little plastic. The swing set was extra tall so you can really fly. It was a playground where the parents can play too.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a golden eagle. I see them all the time, just not twenty yards away. Looking up, I notice thirty of them at least, nesting in the tops of huge cottonwoods. I run over, take pics, and realize these are turkey vultures. They are really awesome and slightly more daunting than goldens. Steven joked that no wonder there were no kids in the park. They don’t attack humans do they?  No, probably not. But when they started circling over head, he suggested we move on.

In the same park there was a pin for rodeo’s, and some horses. We watched some cowboys rope steer. It was a pleasure to watch these folks. They looked as comfortable with a lasso as they did with a smile, easy. They loved their small town, huge life. They have it good, fresh air, and wild-life all around. We said our goodbyes and drove off only to be met with the most beautiful rainbow I have ever seen. That’s what I get for seeing an idea/experience through, two big fat juicy rainbows. Oh I love metaphors, these ones bring tears to my eyes. Steven asked, “Can you cry and smile at the same time?” “Yes, Steven, I can”.

Harvesting Wrath

Fall harvests something in me—warrior-ship.  I trained hard for six months. And I have been training Fitness and Tai Chi for over two years, with a small community of warriors. I train with my partner and instructor Steven Smith, World Tai Chi Boxing Association Instructor.

I stood in a check-out line at Big Lots. I chatted with a lovely, yet sprightly Great-Grandma.  She carried two items to purchase. She enchanted my son Ronan with tricks of her trade, she clicked her tongue, smiled and tried to grab his hand. Ronan bashfully declined the hand grab.  She told me that she had three Great-Grandchildren.

The person ahead of her finished and before we knew it—a middle aged frizzy-haired, thin and slightly stooped guy hissed to his companion, a younger, friendly looking woman, hurry up and cut in line. She was old enough to know better. The man wedged a cart, stocked full and brimming, in front of Great-Grandma. Wow! (Wrath.)

• Hey! I said.
• You cut in front of this woman!
• Well…you two were talking.
• Yes—that’s what folks do in line.
• Well I’m SO sorry, he said with a big grin.
• You don’t look sorry.
• Well I’m not!
• Wow. Then not only are you shady by cutting the line, you’re rude, unkind, and insincere! You need to learn manners!

Grandma and I went to another lane.  I could hear him mumbling something. But I turned back to my son; he wanted to press buttons at the check-out.  I think I pressed plenty for the day. His daughter crept up and apologized for his behavior.

The Great-Grandmother told me: thank you for saying that. And I told her that I won’t let people get away with unacceptable behavior. I have never in my life fought that coolly and impeccably. Usually after a conflict of some sort, I would arrive at home drained, victimized, complaining, while revisiting the scenario of how-could-I-have-done-it-better.

This time was different! I felt energized and powerful. I was straightforward. I struck cleanly with intent. It was for justice. It was for this old woman, it was for the nasty man, it was for my son, it was for my me.

The Scabbard At My Side

I know I can defend myself well. I care for my friends, my community, and my family in a kind, yet ruthless way. And I don’t want to fight: that’s not what my discipline and principles provoke.  They enhance who I’ve always wanted to be, someone with unbending courage.

Not so long ago, I would not have had the fortitude to fight anyone. This story makes me the heroine, and I am, in my own life.  And I am attracted to people who fight the good fights—heroes for themselves, their families, their community, and in the milieu that they inhabit. Those are my friends that I have now. Inspiration for writing this article includes:

• My partner and friend Steven Smith who teaches Real Taijiquan in Salt Lake
• The Art of War by Sun Tzu: a small dense manual on the Samurai Principles of War.
• Musashi by Eiji Yoshikawa—the great, huge, sweeping historical drama about Musashi Miyamoto, the greatest samurai who ever was in Japanese history. It is incredible!
• The Sacred Path of the Warrior by Chogyam Trungpa. This Tibetan treatise, on the art of spiritual goodness and the warrior that exists in all people, is a beautiful, rising-sun (optimistic) philosophy on how to touch the basic-goodness we all have inside.