kicked in capoeira class

"You don't really have to do it, you just have to demonstrate that you can do it"

These were my instructor's words to us in Capoeira class today. What he wanted us to demonstrate was that we could take down our the other player while this player was doing a basic kick.  We didn't know when the kick would come; but we had to keep our eyes on the "opponent" (as you always had to do in Capoeira), escape the kick by going down on the floor on a bent knee, make a sweeping motion with your other foot, and hook it up with the other player's foot that was still on the floor, thereby taking him down. Since we were just "demonstrating", we didn't really have to literally sweep the other player off his feet. We had to stop in mid-movement, when one of our feet was touching our partner's foot.

photo from Adventures in Brazil

So there I was doing the ginga (the basic capoeira move) with my partner and waiting for the kick to come. 

"Keep your eyes on your opponent." Important instructions; I took note of it.

 I escaped a few kicks, before bam.  I didn't know what hit me. Well I did. It was my partner's leg which connected with the right side of my cheek.

It was just a practice session, and the other player didn't really unleash the full potential of his kick.  He's way, way better than I am, so I know that had we been in a real game, that kick would probably have hurt. My cheek smarted a little, but the tingling was gone in a few minutes. 

I knew that Capoeira was a martial art, but I didn't expect to get really kicked in class. I guess up to this point, I felt that since I was just a beginner, I wouldn't get into those kinds of situations yet. But I did, and it wasn't the other player's fault. I didn't act reflexively enough. I was too slow. My mind was wandering. I didn't really keep my eyes on him.  I was caught unprepared. I underestimated the situation.  I was too caught up with myself thinking about how to escape, I forgot that the other player had his own plans too.

Leg to face shouldn't have been a surprise given the situation.  

Well, guess what, I told myself.  Whether you're a noob or not, there's always that possibility that you'll be thrown a curve ball. Or in this case, a sideways kick. And even when you somewhat expect it, it could come at the most inopportune moment. Which is why, you'd always have to be ready. Eyes on the other player, practice your escape, and think about how you could take him down or simply have fun. That's Capoeira. You will get kicked one day. Next time, it might even be worse -- a broken ankle, a bruised ego, knocked unconscious, who knows? 

We went on practicing, and this time, I kept my eyes focused on my partner's face. Locked eyes; doing our ginga dance; mirroring each other; him, thinking about when to throw another Martelo; me, waiting for the kick to come.   

I didn't get hit again, probably because the other player was also more careful this time.  He was really apologetic about accidentally kicking me.  I was also more determined to watch out for his leg and escape.

I felt exhilarated even during that short practice session.  I couldn't do every move in class and many times, I still mixed up my right from my left.  Plus, today, I was kicked on the face for the very first time. But Capoeira was still fun. I could forgive the other person for kicking me, because he obviously didn't mean it. Besides, the possibility of me getting hurt was part of the game. The more important thing was, I moved on.  I still wanted to play.

First Dream in 2013

I had a vivid dream last night, the first dream I remember among hundreds I must have forgotten in my sleepy meanderings.

I went into a school library, just a small room in one of our country's rural areas.  I vaguely remember tinges of baby blue, a few books and chairs, and surprisingly, an aircon that I didn't know but soon noticed still worked.  The students were all grade school boys, and I immediately got along with them. There was a lady guard or a librarian -- I forget -- who spoke to me and confided that the students lacked school supplies. Before I could say anything, around 2-4 public school teachers came in. They didn't look surprised to see me. In fact, one of them (a young woman whose face I could still somewhat recall) seemed to know me. At least that was the impression that I got.  They didn't say much when I told them that I should get going. The teacher who seemingly knew me was too busy with a student. Something in her face told me that she was disappointed in me. She couldn't even look me in the eye. The students were sad to see that I was leaving. I was sad that I was leaving.

The Day I Traded Work for Poetry

I was supposed to get some work done today (i.e. work that actually pays), but reading the poetry of Mary Oliver and Louis Gluck this morning seemed to have awakened the dormant poet within me.  When writers hear the metaphorical "siren's call", they have to write or the words are lost forever.  So I packed up my "real work" for a while and decided to write poetry today.

Suggested steps in reading poetry:

Read slowly and let each word roll in your mouth before swallowing.
Let the whole thing dwell where your heart beats.
Somewhat, but not all together forget.
One of these days, start again.

Reading Poetry

For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world  and lose his soul? - Mark 8:36

Reading poetry
is writing a poem
in your heart --

letting it beat into consciousness
and pour freely into the nothingness
of your very being.

It is finding your soul again,
becoming Love again
as you are when you see
with faith and are born again.

Reading poetry is renewing
oneness with what is Sacred --

you know joy;
you expect Grace

You breathe and awaken
to what had long been forgotten.

----

Viktor Shklovskly would say that poetic language defamiliarizes common things. It lets us look at this seemingly mundane world with fresh eyes. Sometimes faith seems boring compared to the lures of the world, and I pray that God will pour Himself out on me again in all His poetic splendor. I pray that I'll be reworked and reworded by grace to become His poetry.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us... John 1:14

By Richard Lyall from engageworship.org