Aikido, relaxation upon the form of the spine and situation
Kyudo, tension built to explode
the World, myriad chaos manifestations
Me, a malleable entity instantaneously constructing form around all else
Islands we see. There's still the ocean connecting it all ... and the sky ... and the clouds ... and everything else. Budo is everything pointed in a direction. To the relative, yet ultimate position of myself, aikido isolated is not Budo. Niether is, kyudo, the world, or myself. Everything exists. Not-everything also exists. The sum of it all is unrecognizable. Focusing the mind alone on this painting with the goal of understanding is misinterpretation, or frustration and torment. Our focus finds a point, the rest falls into the periphery. Engage the object. Fall into its failure: Real failure.
Leaves fall frail while the trunks of their former bearers come to freeze. Frailty dies. Hardening survives. Can we forgive ourselves for the dead? Walk upon the bridge of the fallen.
The result is a falling parade of red, orange, and yellow.
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