Seeking the connection
It had been months. She had visited her heart place many times and honed her sword skills. She felt strong but yet there seemed so much she did not know and this made her uneasy. Made her train harder.
Yes she had overheard some elders talk of the old ways, and from this she had come to understand some of the theory but that was a poor substitute and she knew it. If she was to protect herself she would need more than just her jian. She would need the wind, the fire, the earth, the water to speak to her.
At times she felt close to a breakthrough. The first time was in the clearing, she had fallen roughly after overbalancing during practice. Embarrassed she had spent a moment laying on the ground nursing her twisted ankle, her left hand partially buried in the dead leaves that had fallen in preparation for winter. In that moment, chastising herself for her personal weakness, she had felt a tremour through the earth. It seemed to move toward her hand growing in intensity. It took only a second to reach her fingertips. She had jerked her hand away in surprise and instantly regretted it. Two mistakes in the passage of minutes. Both costly. Pride bruised and a learning opportunity wasted. She rose hastily and limping slightly moved to the chorten, just as a large branch from a tree had broken off and fallen where she was laying. She stared at the branch, her mouth open in surprise.
She had been told by the sadhu that when she was ready she would be able to feel things, see things, know things that would help her. She had questioned him, did her mean the five senses? Did he mean intuition? He had smiled in the half light. Then he had signaled that her time was over, and she had left his cave after placing the offering at his feet. From that time she had asked many questions of her teachers about the five senses. But the more she learned the more what the sadhu had said did not seem to relate. There seemed to be something missing. Now she was in the country of her mother, and it was not safe to openly seek teachers here.
Then again it had happened. She was planting some herbs in her garden, her back to the wind. Bent over the patch of earth she had prepared she felt a push on her right side as if the wind had whipped up at that precise moment and spent itself to spin her round. Then it was gone. She responded slowly, feeling pins and needles down her arms into her hands. The first sign of fear. She turned in time to see a band of cloud rise up over a ridge line full of menace and electricity. It was racing as if it knew it could not last long. Heavy rain fell on the ridge behind her, as the cloud unloaded to get over the mountain. Claps of thunder booming all around her. She had run inside. Looking through the shutter, watching the progress of the storm, she noticed it seemed to slowdown as if growing suddenly despondent. All it's vigour gone.
There had been a couple of times. Much like the storm, she had not understood what the warning was until the moments unfolded. Then afterwards she could see the connection.
What she needed to do was tap into the message. For the message would always be a warning. At least that is what she thought. It would help her, give her an advantage when fighting. She would need it. She had learned once before the hard way that some possessed a strength far superior to hers. She would need other arsenal in addition to her mastery of the jian.
There was a time when she trusted the sword would be enough. She laughed bitterly at her own stupidity. At least that ignorance had not cost her life.
She would not make the same mistake. At least she hoped she would not. But sometimes she had made the same mistake over and over as if stuck in mud, knowing that if she struggled it will exhaust her and pull her further down, but unable to stop trying.
The sadhu had said she was stubborn. He was right.
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