به نام او
از شما چه پنهان كه ما هم دوست داريم خودمان را تاي چي كار و متعاقباً رزمي كار حساب كنيم هر چند كه مايه خنده ي دوستان شود كه البته چه بهتر ...
بگذريم چند وقت پيش كتابي از يك بنده خداي گردن كلفت (ر.ک عکسش این زیر) به نام Geoff Thompson که به گفته خودش در بیش از 300 دعوای خیابانی شرکت کرده است، با عنوان "The art of fighting without fighting" پيدا كردم که موضوع بسیار جالبی دارد که بماند برای بعد ولی کتاب با داستان کوتاهی شروع می شد که خیلی لذت بردم و عیناً در پایین عکس می چسبانم؛
There was once a very famous Aikido player in Japan who spent
his whole life studying Usheba’s legendary art. Although he had
dedicated his whole existence to this beautiful art he had never
actually had occasion to test it in a real life situation against a
determined attacker, someone intent on hurting him. Being a
moralistic kind of person he realised that it would be very bad
karma to actually go out and pick a fight just to test his art so he
was forced to wait until a suitable occasion presented itself. Naively,
he longed for the day when he was attacked so that he could
prove to himself that Aikido was powerful outside of the controlled
walls of the dojo.
The more he trained, the more his obsession for validation grew
until one day, travelling home from work on a local commuter
train, a potential situation did present itself – an overtly drunk
and aggressive man boarded his train and almost immediately
started verbally abusing the other passengers.
‘This is it,’ the Aikido man thought to himself, ‘this is my chance to
test my art.’
He sat waiting for the abusive passenger to reach him. It was
inevitable that he would: he was making his way down the carriage
abusing everyone in his path. The drunk got closer and closer to
the Aikido man, and the closer he got the louder and more
aggressive he became. Most of the other passengers recoiled in
fear of being attacked by the drunk. However, the Aikido man
couldn’t wait for his turn, so that he could prove to himself and
everyone else, the effectiveness of his art. The drunk got closer
and louder. The Aikido man made ready for the seemingly
inevitable assault – he readied himself for a bloody encounter.
As the drunk was almost upon him he prepared to demonstrate
his art in the ultimate arena, but before he could rise from his
seat the passenger in front of him stood up and engaged the
drunk jovially. ‘Hey man, what’s up with you? I bet you’ve been
drinking in the bar all day, haven’t you? You look like a man with
problems. Here, come and sit down with me, there’s no need
to be abusive. No one on this train wants to fight with you.’
The Aikido man watched in awe as the passenger skillfully talked
the drunken man down from his rage. Within minutes the drunk
was pouring his heart out to the passenger about how his life
had taken a downward turn and how he had fallen on hard
times. It wasn’t long before the drunk had tears streaming down
his face. The Aikido man, somewhat ashamed thought to himself
‘That’s Aikido!’. He realized in that instant that the passenger
with a comforting arm around the sobbing drunk was
demonstrating Aikido, and all martial art, in it highest form.
