If I were a true master...

…I would have played a tune upon it, without an instant’s hesitation.

As it was, or as I am, I managed only a single note.

I was outdoors, doing the first of the Sha family tai ji forms. It would have been a nice variation on shou hui pi pa or “strum the lute”, which pops up all over the place in various branches of tai ji. That is a fairly nice and benign motion, except for the fact that the application involves smashing an opponent’s arm from opposing directions, probably doing considerable damage to any joints like the elbow, which might get caught up in the action.

Would have been, except that I was doing dao juan gong, “reverse reeling”, though I prefer its alternate name, “repulse the monkey”. Your body is moving backward although one hand is exerting force to the front. One hand reaches back behind yourself, then pushes forward, scraping over the lower hand, which moves in toward the body while sinking down to the level of the dantian.

The Sha family version has in interesting, seldom seen variation, in which – while the body is stretched to the maximum in opposite directions, hands front and back – you lift the front foot up to the lead hand before stepping down, moving back, and pushing forward with the upper hand. This version requires much more balance and dexterity - and is quite beautiful when done well.

The first three in the series of four had gone smoothly. Just when I had reached back on the fourth and final, and stretched myself maximally in opposing directions front and back, I felt the string, plucked it with the hand behind me. It was stretching from neighbor’s house to our tree, having been blown down lower by the previous day’s wind. I had been watching it a few days, above me as I practiced outdoors. But this time, unknown to me, it had fallen within my reach. I stretched back in the motion, happened to touch it, became aware of it, hesitated an instant, moved my hand slightly, and continued the motions of the form.

Somehow, I did not break it, only gave it a good shake, probably gave a good scare to the spider who had spun it. Being freed of all constraints of ego, I of course felt no satisfaction in my martial accomplishments whatsoever. Those non-masters of lesser martial accomplishment would surely have snapped the string, after all. But me...I had shown the light touch of mastery not to an opponent, but to a hapless spider on its web.

These spiders suddenly appear in late November. Out of nowhere. One morning, the beginnings of their webs can be seen everywhere, single strands of web stretching from branch to branch and from roof to tree. They are called jorou gumo, which could be literally translated as “prostitute spiders”, or more loosely as man-snarers. Japanese folklore links them with waterfalls and pools of water and the ensnaring of the unwary. Perhaps they are not so hapless after all.

You can read more about them here: www.obakemono.com/obake/jorogumo and you can see some here: http://flickr.com/photos/tags/jorougumo
There is also a story by Tanizaki in which they figure in the title, and which was later made into a movie.

I have always been fascinated by these spiders and their webs, which sometimes stretch for several meters through the air. They fly through the air on gusts of winter wind, carrying a strand of web with them as they go, reaching out and crossing vast distances in the spider world. I like the idea of something both fragile and strong, shaken but not blown down by the wind. I always take care not to disturb these webs when gardening or trimming trees in the spacious one meter of “garden” surrounding my house.

So I must admit a guilty streak of pleasure upon realizing the lightness of my touch, the softness of my reaction as my fingers played upon that strand behind me. But at the same time, I must also recognize the instant of hesitation I felt, that moment of awareness. Sigh, the path of True Mastery still lies far ahead of me.

Meanwhile, all the jorou gumo are gone, vanished as suddenly as they came. I actually wrote the first (and better, if I may) version of this post last night, and JUST as I finished, some evil entity entered my laptop and wiped out everything I had written but the links. Were I not a True Master, I would have uttered some few strong words under the cover of darkness and solitude.

This morning, I went out to take more pictures (you can find one back on the “REEEEEEEN” or however-many E’s post), but they had all disappeared, the spiders and their webs. So I am left with memory traces of the post written last night and that instant of slight stickiness and awareness as my fingers caressed a string but produced no sound.

(picture from one of the Universities which hosted an Olympic event, probably wrestling, in Beijing)