So. I'm taking all of these shintaido classes from different teachers. Very different teachers with very different approaches. Some of the classes almost back to back--say one in the evening and one early the next morning. That has felt like a disadvantage--my body hurts. My mind is still tangled with the physical and mental data from the previous class.

I'm now finding there are also advantages to chaining them together. Last week, four classes in a row had me confronting my reticence to offer blows. By the fourth--something powerful and beautiful emerging--no injury, only human connection.

Then this week, the Tuesday night class is in a small closed space. The teacher suggests a one-sided motion that has you rocking back and forth like a wave, taking you forward. (I have had after-effects from this before, almost as though once started within you, the movement does not stop.)

This time, the next morning out in Glen Park, we do our walking/running with the 6-foot stick (bo)--and at some point--boom! I have run from behind my partners to far in front of them--without effort or self. One moment I am behind them, the next far ahead.

It felt connected to the practice the night before, back and forth, back and forth, like cocking a spring-loaded instrument. The next day, the trigger is pulled, and boom!

An odd parallel with this energy burst is a Rufus Wainright song a housemate wanted me to hear and load onto my computer. The Greek song. I can't understand most of the lyrics, but the melody has been pushing through my mind each morning when I awaken, carrying me forward. It has the same kind of spring-loading--then an almost operatic release.

My last connection is back to the golf ball. One human cosmonaut takes a club, pulls it back high and swings, passes the energy of his body through the stick to the ball. The ball sails and sails and sails through space.

Perhaps I too am propelled forward.