JOURNEY - on Mastering Ukemi Daniel Linden (feel good novels txt) 📖

was okay and had gone with it anyway. Darn! I could feel the huge grouper winning and tried desperately to turn its head up and away from the rock. Art had brought his line in and was asking if there was anything he could do. I thought about telling him to start the motor and hit reverse to help get the fish away from the rock when the line snapped like a pistol shot and I rocked back into the seat.

I turned to look at Art slowly and he at me. We both grinned and he said, “We need live bait.”

“That’s a fact,” I said.

Chapter 7

Truth Time

When you wait for something it seems to never happen and when it arrives it flies by so quickly that it seems to have wings. We had prepared the best we could with gear lists, weekly exercise, packing and re-packing our duffels, practicing a few words of Nepali and general anticipation that bordered on the manic. We were anxious to go.

My gear was all over the bed. I could have put it on the living room floor, but then I would have had to bend over time and time again to pick things up and place them into my duffle bag only to take it out again and try it in another order. I had been at this for a couple hours trying to find the perfect combination of efficient fit and common sense for each item to come to hand. You don’t want to have to unpack an entire expedition kit in order to find a down vest because the weather just got uncomfortably chilly.

My sleeping bag was no problem. It went on the bottom along with my ground pad wrapped around it and conforming to the canvas walls of the duffle. On top of that were the clothes that would be for every day, incidentals like shaving gear and toothpaste, heavy coat, vest, and the extra packets of dried sports drinks that would be so essential for keeping our energy up and electrolytes in proper balance. After that went the emergency gear and foul weather gear, and extra glasses and a hat. We had to have everything, could count on nothing being there in an emergency. I slowly packed, emptied and repacked until I was certain that I had the order and consistency that I knew I would need. Then I did it again with the lights down very low. It was tedious, but I remember having to find items in dark rooms and then having to pack in the dark. Better to do the work now.

***

This is a lot like doing back rolls during the warm up section in an aikido class. It is practicing to do something with absolutely no thought at all. We practice rolling up and back onto our shoulders and then over all the way, and then standing and rolling forward all the way until we do it without thought. If we needed to think before responding we would get hit, hurt, or broken. An uke that has mastered the art is automatic unless he is initiating the response as well as the attack; unless he is controlling the nage’s movement as well as his response to the attack. But when an uke reaches that point he is a master of aikido as well as ukemi and he can do anything he wants with no thought at all. It is by whim, desire, recalcitrance, meanness or fun. It is his choice.

But the root of the growing that becomes mastership is in the repetition of simple exercises. Every class begins at some point with ukemi exercise, and advancement in years and rank does not exclude anyone from participating. This is why I was packing and repacking my gear. My wife understood and let me alone although she was becoming less cheery than she usually is as the days wound down closer and closer to our departure date.

“What are you planning to wear in Paris?” she asked.

“I intend to stay casual,” I said.

“That’s not like you. You usually wear a sports coat when you travel.”

“Yeah, but I notice more and more that most people dress pretty shabby when they travel and even a nice pair of trousers and a decent shirt make you seem dressed up any more. I don’t really need the sports coat in Paris, I won’t be going to any of the fancier places for dinner and why drag it to Nepal?’

“Okay. Whatever, I just asked,” she said. “But it doesn’t take any extra effort to have it along. And you should really have a black shirt and black trousers if you are in Paris. It’s almost a French law. And you never know when you might want to look nice. You’re going to leave it all in Kathmandu anyway.”

“I know,” I said. “Honey, I’ll be alright.” She came over and put her arms around me and we stood like that until my dogs came into the room and insisted on getting in the middle of the big hug and then they got all the attention like they believed they should.

***

The airlines’ new security regulations make it both easier and harder to fly than it used to be. It’s harder because of all the lines and waiting and searches of your athletic bags and shoes. And easier because you say goodbye to your loved ones back at the curb or the ticket counter or the main concourse. Once you get over that hurdle, that saying goodbye, then your trip has really begun and everything takes on a different look and feel. You might still be right there in your hometown and be able to look out the window and see a building or a