Even a Glance

 

Even a Glance

Nerves of steel that vibrate like the tension on his guitar strings when he tuned them too tightly, became scary. But Josh would not let them snap. What did his martial arts dojo tell him? “Breathe, Joshua. Breathe gentle control into your muscles. Push away the desire to destroy your opponent. Stand in your truth.” 

Standing in front of a full length mirror in his bedroom, suited up for his upcoming competition, he was his opponent. If he allowed even a glance past his image into the depths of his mirror, he lost focus. The computer screen beckoned him. His desk - strewn with a jumble of pens, pencils, notebooks, the model race car he was building and old food that had a brush of grey green; dry crusts of old pizza, made him want to snap. Let himself sweep it all away in one grand swoop. Not one that just put all on the floor, but had the power of magic behind it. Every bit of clutter would crumble and sparkle into dust. He wanted the same cleanliness around him that he felt in his practiced control. His grandfather, would tell him “Slow up, son. Just start in one corner. But make sure that corner is within your reach.” That pulled Josh back right away. He looked past himself into the depths of the mirror again. He knew even if he turned around, he would still have to walk across the room to get to the jumble on his desk. He’d have to pass his unmade bed, trip over his jeans that he’s left lying where he stepped out out them last night. He heard his grandfather’s voice again - or was it his dojo. “Feel your feet on the ground, son.That is where you start.”

“One can be the master of what one does, but never of what one feels.”

~ Gustave Flaubert