The Art of Cowardice

I get the dreaded call at work.  My wife calls to say there has been a physical incident at the train stop.  She recalls the story to me.  She approaches the train stop where two men are seated at one end of the seats.  She is tired and takes a seat at the far end of the benches, about 30 feet away.  She becomes invisible – a term we share to just become a part of the environment, not making contact, not reacting to cat calls or comments; keeping situational awareness and monitoring the surroundings.   She said one of the men started yelling, “Hey, lady!”  She continued her invisibility.  She comments that he continued to get louder and eventually walked over and placed his hand around her upper arm.

Now, I will digress from this story for a moment.  I am a warrior.  I lead a warrior life.  I impart my knowledge to her on many occasions.  This meant that I took her into the rough part of Baltimore the very first week on an invisibility tour – making sure she knew the enemy, understood his terrain, and knew the strengths and weaknesses of those who would do her harm.  It is the warrior way in which I have been trained.  It is called intelligence gathering.  It is called surveying the battlefield to understand which strategy to apply to which tactic.  It prepares you to know that life is Banpen Fugyo, an infinite number of changes to be prepared at any moment to share the warrior skills and eliminate the element of surprise.

Now, back to our story:  The bully had taken my wife’s space.  He has decided that his life is forfeit because he does not know what he faces.  His perception of this lady ignoring him has become skewed because of his cowardice and belief that he will get his way.  He is not prepared for what comes next. 

In a flash, my wife has broken the grip and is upright, projecting her voice into his bone marrow.  That is what I teach her – show the attacker your intention – mind, body and spirit – shatter the inside of his bones with the projection of energy he has asked for when he touches you.  This is what my wife did.  She said the man, who seconds ago had grabbed her, realized that everyone at the train station was now focused on him.  He stole my wife’s space, so she let him have it.  My wife said he backed off, apologized and walked away.  She moved to higher ground, kept an eye on the enemy and went back to being invisible.

Every encounter is unique.  Most attackers are bullies, cowards at heart.  The true essence of the art of the warrior is the willingness to close with the enemy.  It is not an easy path.  It is not the art of cowardice.  It is not imposing your will upon others, unless they ask for their destruction.  I am proud of my wife.  When tested, training took over and she closed with and engaged the enemy.  Such is the life of the warrior.

Time to plant some flowers

Musha Shugyo \ 武者 修行;  
1. Warrior’s quest or pilgrimage.

    I have spent the last twelve years in the southeast, specifically the Fort Stewart and Savannah, Georgia region, a part of the United States called, “Coastal Georgia.”  This week, I pack away my swords and move to the next chapter of my journey.

     It has been quite the adventure.  I spent the first half of my time honing my skills with the 3^rd Infantry Division on numerous training missions and combat rotations in Iraq.  I faced the darkest parts of my soul and peered into the fire of my inner demons.  It would only be in the face of absolute adversity and on the verge of destruction that I would be handed an option – give it all up and grow or remain impenetrable and rot from the inside.  I gave it all up so I could grow.

     I was offered an opportunity to work for the US Army Corps of Engineers.  Hanging up my fatigues and grabbing a shirt and tie, I spent the latter half of my journey honing my counselor skills and becoming a teacher of leadership and diversity.  From the flames emerged those parts of my psyche that I would be well known for – the Disability Program Manager and veteran advocate.  It would be in this final half of my time that I would truly become strong.

     I depart coastal Georgia a better man, capable of unconditional love and compassion.  I know what is truly important in life.  My life’s motto, as always, silently whispers to me, “We need to keep exploring and learning.  Keep going!”

     I end with an observation from nature.  For years, I stood at a bus stop under the shade of a massive oak tree.  Its strong roots had buckled the concrete sidewalk around it.  Its branches stretched across two lanes of traffic to provide shade to the house across the street.  It was home to birds, squirrels and city mice.  One morning there was a sign stapled to its trunk – “Condemned.  Scheduled for removal.”  I remember feeling sadness that this majestic, decades old icon would fall.

    A few weeks later I walked up to the bus stop.  Beside the bus marker was a stump.  On closer observation the truth was revealed.  The inside of this four foot wide tree stump was hollow.  It had rotted from the inside out to where only a shell remained.  While projecting strength in all weather, the city arborist knew it was only a matter of time before it fell.  My classes on teaching perceptions to managers and employees leapt to mind – “Sometimes, things are not what they appear to be.”

     I passed that stump a few days ago.  The owners of the seafood restaurant by the bus stop had filled the hollow area with potting soil and planted flowers.  They were in full bloom, a reminder to find joy, positivity and hope in every situation.

     So, we bid farewell to Coastal Georgia.  It is time to go plant some flowers and enjoy the next part of the journey.   

Perceptions

In the early morning hours of the day, my wife comes back in the house from her trek across the street to the convenience store.   She is visibly upset.  She explains that on her way back across the street, she was approached by a man carrying a clipboard and trying to get her to sign a petition.  When she told the man to stop and she had no interest, he became visibly upset and started to yell at her and screamed she was a racist.  My beloved continued to ignore him and came home.  After explaining the situation to me, I went across the street.

Our residence lies on the edge of the million dollar mansions and the ‘rough part’ of town.  99 percent of the time it is a peaceful neighborhood.  It is the 1 percent that concerns the warrior-protector inside me.  Crossing the street, I see a man meeting the description my wife gave me.  He is around 20 years of age, dressed nicely, carrying a clipboard and is black / African-American.  I add that last part because in Savannah, Georgia the civil rights movement that occurred in the 1960s is a recent memory.  Laws have been passed that grant equality, but grandparents and parents of the youth in this town grew up and continue to live with the hatred that the color of one’s skin invoke in another human being.  I approached the young man and said, “I believe you called my wife a racist.” 

Now, let us digress and talk about perceptions.  We know what the young man looks like, but what of me?  Dressed in baggy, black sweats, funky five finger shoes with no socks, and – most importantly – body posture relaxed, hands by my side, voice lowered – sentence uttered in a neutral tone.

Over the next 10 minutes, I had a conversation with the young man.  Riding his emotions, I came to realize that he had a very rough time this morning with an ‘older black man’ at McDonalds who had yelled at him.  He had walked down the street to our intersection, where it is currently 32 degrees F, with a feel like temperature of 24 degrees, and was uncomfortable.  Anger was just below the surface when the ‘lady ignored me and didn’t want to have anything to do with me.’  His first instinct was it was because of the color of his skin.

I told him I understood.  I am an Equal Employment Opportunity Specialist for the Federal government.  I work the ‘mean streets’ of civil rights every day for a living.  I understand how it must feel, as I am a disabled veteran and can also be the focus of discrimination and how the words “crazy vet” are my generation’s racial epithet.   I told him to remember the message of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  We accomplish more through peaceful protest.  We should be using non-violence to work our message.  We have to endure, persevere, walk those long miles, and endure the ‘fire hose’ of those who would try to stop us.  Yes, even the taunts of similar situated individuals, the cold of a Savannah morning, the woman who ignores you and walks away.

It was at this point that I explained that the woman who ignored him, the love of my life, the one who is under my protection, has also endured a rough life.  Because of this, and the fact that she is married to someone who has studied the martial arts for almost 30 years, she does not speak or engage with strangers, especially ones that become confrontational.

I wished him well on his journey and luck with his petition drive.  I have fought for this right on many battlefields in far off lands.  Make a voice for yourself.  Find your passion.  As I shook his hand and parted ways, I reminded him to come to the MLK parade on Monday.  I will be riding on the Corps of Engineers float, celebrating Dr. King’s message of freedom for all, regardless of what others think when they see your outside persona.  He said he would do his best to be there.  He said, “Sir, you have given me a lot to think about and really shattered how I see the world.”

I smiled and walked back to the house, thinking of those shinobi warriors and their silent means to work their will.

Ready to live today!

The full moon of the night symbolizes the approach of the new moon in two weeks, heralding the entrance of the dragon.  With two claps before the dawn, I sprinkle the ashes of the year of the rabbit into the river, watching it take the past into the living sea and putting it behind me.  A final clap and I turn to reflect upon the last year and energize myself for the future.

2011 was an interesting year.  It saw destruction and fire.  It also saw the inevitable hope that rises from the ashes and lights the path ahead.

I lost two people in my life this year and had to say goodbye to another.  Both my uncle and stepfather passed from this life.  My stepbrother made a choice to continue his errant ways and decided to walk another path in his life.  I faced the fire of dealing with past personal issues and embraced the compassion that comes with placing the needs of others over the wants of self.  In the end, as the fire burned intensely, as the smoke threatened to choke the very life from my lungs, I emerged on the other side, stronger and ready to face the future.  Such is the warrior life. 

So, what does it all mean?  Warrior-protectors preach perseverance.  It is the driving force behind what we have to do every moment, every second, every day.  It is getting up to face whatever hardship threatens to derail our path.  It is saying “I have to” when everything inside screams “I don’t want to” so that we may lead a happier life later. 

There are a lot of things I wanted to do this last year.  But, there were a lot of things I needed to do instead.  It is about finding the balance between want and need.  It is about staying in the middle, focused on the here and now.  It is about letting go of the past, welcoming the future and living today.  Banpen Fugyo!  Stand ready to embrace whatever comes your way!   

Live your life!

Milton Ray Winebrenner, age 74, died August 7, 2011 in Houston, Texas.

Uncle Milton was the oldest of three children, the youngest being my mother.  He had been married 54 years (think about that for a minute), had no children and led a very amazing life.  As I have mentioned in the past, I lost my dad when I was 14.  Uncle Milton was the “rich uncle” who was always there during thick and thin.  I never knew what his income level was, but he lived in the big city up the street (Houston) and always had some cool gifts at Christmas.  Looking back at his life, his pictures, his memories, I tend to see how my life evolved.  

Uncle Milton was involved in management consulting, Toastmasters, and civic duty.  He was a member of the Army at one point in his life.  He loved cats (his four ‘children’ will miss him dearly).  He was always right on the cutting edge of technology (he gave me my first computer at Christmas, 1982 - all hail the Texas Instrument 99/4A!).  He always treated the family to holiday meals at the local country club before opening up his home and heart to us at the big house in Houston.  On my last trip home, we met up and pizza was the order of the day.  He was still going strong, heavily involved as the president of his neighborhood civic organization, still making a difference in this world, when he passed.  

Uncle Milton had fun in his life.  He took life seriously, but did not take life too seriously.  He will be missed.  Although he has departed, he lives on in all the people he influenced.  That includes me.  The lessons he left behind will not be forgotten.  Stay true to your community, to your family and to yourself.  Pursue your passion with perseverance, but do not forget to stop, look around, and have some fun along the way.  Stay devoted to your soul mate.  Play.  Never forget those who have less than you do.  Do not judge, but treat them with compassion. 

The world will miss you, Uncle Milton.        

The one sure event - Death

For the samurai to learn
There's only one thing,
One last thing -
To face death unflinchingly.

- Tsukahara Bokuden (1489-1571)

In this lifetime, I have been the bringer of death; I have been the enemy of death.  On the battlefields of the Middle East, I was the instrument of death, the bringer of artillery and ruthless fire upon those who opposed our advance.  It was this road that eventually led me to the path I follow today, the enemy of death.  

I now walk a path to make sure that death is held at bay until it is truly welcome.  We all take a journey through this life.  The only thing that is certain is the passing of this lifetime.  At an early age, the age of 14, I learned that death can come at any moment.  It was an early morning on Thursday, May 20, 1982, that my father passed on to the other side.  It would be many, many years later before I accepted this moment in my life.  It only became acceptance when I realized that my dad was gone, the ones alive where those he left behind. We should live, everyday in the Here and Now.

Today, the word goes out that the man who went on to marry my mother, my stepfather, has begun his journey on the other side.  The family grieves and strives to find acceptance on the passing.  He had 70 years on the earth and fathered two wonderful men.  He provided balance to my mother.  Now he has passed on, to find what lies on the other side.

I will not tell you how he died; I will tell you how he lived.  My stepbrother summarized it nicely, “Father, Brother, Uncle, Friend, Obnoxious Jerk at times, but much more often a loving, caring man...”  This is the remembrance we must embrace.  Remember the lessons of life and not the lessons of death.  Hold those precious moments in your spirit so that they may light the path ahead.

The Samurai did not fear death.  It was a natural part of life.  We exit the womb with only one thing that is a surety.

I have no parents; I make the Heavens and the Earth my parents.

I have no home; I make the Tan T'ien my home.

I have no divine power; I make honesty my Divine Power.

I have no means; I make Docility my means.

I have no magic power; I make personality my Magic Power.

I have neither life nor death; I make A Um my Life and Death.

     - 1st Refrain, Samurai Creed, 14th Century

Situational Awareness

Not a day goes by that our fair city has another crime making the headlines.  Some blame the heat, the education system, the lack of activities for young adults, the drug problem, and on and on.  No matter what is motivating those who turn to crime, the rest of us can benefit from a good sense of situational awareness. 

Many cases I read about involved women who were attacked while they were on their cell phone.  I have a real pet peeve about people who stay glued to their cell phones a majority of the time.  I will be the ‘grumpy old guy’ and tell you that ‘in my day, while we were walking two miles uphill both ways to school in the snow’ that a cell phone was used for emergency purposes.  Nowadays, it is a fashion accessory, glued to an ear while driving, walking, and, yes, even standing at a urinal doing our business (seriously).  One detriment is the loss of situational awareness.  In the cases I cited, the women (and men are just as guilty) become so wrapped up in their conversations, they lose touch with what is going on around them.  I do a lot of walking, a lot of people watching.  You can always tell the vets, the martial artists, the ones who have some training in situational awareness.  Their gaze goes to hands, to center of body movements, to a quick glance at another person’s eyes.  Their gaze is in constant movement, not noticeable to the extreme, just quick glances to all cardinal points, expanding peripheral vision to take in every minute detail, every perspective, every moment in the Here and Now.    

Situational awareness is not just about threat assessment.  It is about soaking in the environment.  Here is an example:  Walked two miles to the river for my morning run.  A period of that walk was before the sun came up through a rough part of the city.  While my ‘senses’ were expanded, I noted several individual youths just hanging out.  I also noticed the large Savannah fountain and how nice it looked lit up.  I hit the river path for my three mile run.  About 70% of that path is cobblestone.  A different type of situational awareness is needed to make sure I navigate the stones successfully.  As I make the turn onto the river, the sun is coming up over my right shoulder.  In the river a tugboat is guiding a large cargo ship out to the sea.  Porpoising in front of the ship are Georgia bottleneck dolphins.  Shop owners are sweeping the sidewalks in front of their businesses.  Other runners pass by and we share greetings.  The city slowly rises from its slumber and a new day starts.  Can you feel the happiness?  Can you feel the joy of a new day?

Use your situational awareness to remain in the Here and Now.  Be ever cautious of those who would do you harm, but don’t let the happiness and joys of a beautiful surrounding pass you by in your journeys.  Live your life!  Have situational awareness!