mental kali

Jean asked me if I had class on election night. Of course I did. I'm always in class every Tuesday and Thursday whether or not there are students for me to teach, which has happened a few times when I first started teaching. The only time I've really missed is when I've been on vacation or had a performance I knew well in advance.

I'm basically addicted. I must get my kali-kick 2-3 times a week at least. I get alot out of it. Learn about myself, other people, figure out how to apply lessons to other aspects of my life. Plus, I come out calmer than going in, and the world always seems a bit more manageable after I'm done. It's meditation really.

My students have started coming up to me and saying that's they've been practicing "mental kali." One is a public school teacher and she's been using what she knows in order to deal with difficult people in her department, getting additional funding for her English language learners. Much much different from the way she used to handle things before when she'd be much more in your face and not getting what she wanted.

Others talk about how they handled someone at work, or students in school. How they've learned to listen and take things in, but not be taken in. This is not something I have taught them explicitly, though I have mentioned it as a possibility. It's something they've worked on themselves to create the ties in philosophy. A punch, a blow, a setback, can be handled in similar fashion.

I realize that in looking back in this election, there was a lot of emphasis on Bush as the "enemy" and the "evil one." When in reality, the problem wasn't the opponent we were facing, but the allies we were not working with, namely those who voted for Bush on "moralistic" grounds and the immigrant population. Paid too much attention on who Bush and Kerry were, when we should have been looking at who the voters really are. Sometimes our greatest opponents are not the ones we need to defeat, but the ones we have to work with.

Tonight's class was push hands. You learn about giving and receiving, about supporting and resting, about feeling for the cracks and learning how to turn the energy you are given around. The same way Rona's tornado became a beautiful altar. I realized that most of us are used to either only giving or only receiving and we keep missing the turn, a way to redirect and transform the energy. The turn is not quick, it's subtle, a combination of numerous small adjustments, especially when you are the small thing trying to move a big thing.

We've got four more years. We could sit here and take it. Or we can feel the direction of our opponent and find a way to turn it all around.