Doom Dreams

[Drunk Monk]

I’m in my mom’s garage and have a rat tail staff and I dearly want to practice my new Shaolin staff form. But there’s no room. It’s night and my family is asleep in the house. I keep banging stuff. Then suddenly the garage is empty so I have room. But I can only remember the first move and that’s sketchy. Then Tara cries out from the guest room that she’s trying to sleep. But it’s Tara when she was a wee child. I apologize to her through a closed door, then go about the house turning off lights. I bid her good night when done, although frustrated that I can’t remember my new form.

When I wake, I try to remember that form. When I wake up more I realize I haven’t learned a new staff form in 30 years.

Psychoanal: Despite being hungover and skipping a lot of Kung Fu last Saturday, I had a fairly solid workout. I remembered my forms relatively well and felt strong and stable. Watching the six newly certified Sifus at the banquet that night, I realized my skills were on par with theirs, apart from them all being young, like in their 20s. Several other Sifus asked me if I was teaching, and it made me yearn to get back into it. On top of that, the instructor at the academy where I train taught his students lianbu (a form I’ve known since the late 70s) and his students look awful. I’ve been biting my tongue about that - he’s been teaching beginners advance Taiji theory and none of them can even throw a punch. Lianbu is a military form and its well known. This new crop of students is embarrassing. 

Also Tara is headed to DC from Tues 2 Fri for her job and given the state of our government and what’s happening in CA, I’m dad stressing it.