[A special shout out to Katrina. You inspire me. Thank you]
I practice kata before I sit zazen.
Jion is very old. Some doubt its kinship to Jion-Ji, but most accept it. I accept it.
Kata connects me to the past and allows me to forget it.
Jion grounds my body and settles my nerves.
Kata points me to the future and allows me to ignore it.
Jion kata embraces my body with the present.
My mind, that violent tempest,
Sekhmet's own hand against me,
rages against death,
like no warrior my body could be.
Yet it is not a warrior, as it would like to be known,
but an untended garden,
with briars and stickers and weeds over grown.
With patients unforced I pull them one by one.
I pull each briar and sticker and weed.
I pull each briar and sticker...
I pull each briar...