The Unbearable Lightness of Being

This phrase best describes the state we struggle to attain through the work or otherwise. This is why we work so long and hard on rooting and sinking – it balances this internal lightness and prevents us from taking off and disappearing altogether. The work settles and brings peace (of mind and body, and eventually soul) and gives you such a secure and strong foundation that you can readily attain and maintain this lightness despite your external worries and stresses. I watched Wong Kar-Wai's 2046 last night, which by the way is not a patch on his previous In the Mood for Love, but there again what could be?, and in it he beautifully depicts this trembly, fragile and vulnerable emotional state, expressed very differently by men and women, all brought about through the poignancy of love and loss of course. Such heightened emotional states are generally considered by society as inevitable consequences of our humanity, but somehow destabilizing and extreme and not to be encouraged. It is our contention that it is precisely these states that define you and give you power, and even if they cannot be maintained they should still be remembered and honoured and in some way kept alive and present because they are the most real part of you. There have been many documentaries on TV lately about WWII, focusing largely on German and Japanese atrocities and conveniently forgetting British and American ones, and it has been a real education for me to see just how easily those involved are still moved to tears by their memories – just how alive their experiences still are, and just how affecting they consequently are as human beings – just how much they draw me into their souls to partake of their humanity. There were also of course a fair share of people interviewed who felt no remorse or sadness at all, and they were repugnant and repellent, having constructed a hard shell around their human frailty in order to survive. In a way they represented the general approach, within the martial arts and within society, to coping with connectedness – cut off from it, or deny it altogether – see the other as separate, yourself and your extensions (family and friends) being solely and wholly important. This is the attitude that honours time, or the passing of things, “Oh that's all in the past, why should it concern me now?” But for a truly alive person there is no past because everything that has happened is still happening and was happening before it happened. In Shakespeare's Winter's Tale, Time the Great Healer does his healing not because the protagonists forget their loves and losses but because they keep them alive. Enough time must elapse for the heart of Leontes' and Hermione's love for each other, represented by their lost daughter Perdita, to grow and mature and gather enough energy to physically bring the lovers back together again. The final scene is one of the most powerful in theatre and always has me sobbing. The newly unveiled statue of Hermione (which is in fact Hermione herself) moves her faithful and repentant husband to such emotional heights that it starts to move and comes alive. His belief and faith, and their consequence - his love, literally breathe life into stone. This is power.