Hi, Rachel!

Sounds like you had a wonderful time at camp! That's great!

Igor

--- rkxyz <rkxyz@...> wrote:

> Hi,
> This journal entry is easier to read and navigate in HTML format.
> Here is the link:
> http://www.new-pony.com/systema/camp/CrystallineMoments.html
>
> But if you prefer text-only, here it is. More will follow as I type
>
> my handwritten notes from my incredible six-day experience with our
>
> top instructors. I will also be putting together an online photo
> album, and I'll post a link to that as well.
>
> Systema International Training Camp 2005
> Hunstville, Ontario
> Crystalline Moments: Excerpts from Rachel Klingberg's journals
>
>
> Since returning from camp, I find myself more conscious of what I
> am
> doing now, and whether I want to be doing it. I've noticed this
> with
> small actions like eating or watching television, or something more
>
> dynamic actions like talking to a stranger or practicing rolls in
> the
> park. Usually when I practice rolls, I am unsure when to stop. I
> feel
> as if I want to stop on a fairly good roll, but sometimes take it
> too
> far and start to think, "Is this a good roll to stop on? How 'bout
> this one?" Today, I just knew when to stop, when the practice was
> sufficient, my body was relaxed, and the movement was a little more
>
> fluid. I've learned something about decisive action, not wavering
> from the course I know is true and right, finding the inner voice,
> living and not just letting life happen to me. Of course, I learned
> a
> lot more at camp, and I could never communicate just how the
> experienced changed me, but I will post about that in a separate
> thread.
>
> Part of my motivation for writing is simply a trick to retain
> things
> I've learned, taking notes, just like in college (although for the
> most part, I write after the training, but for camp, I had my
> journal
> with me all the time, even at meals). Another part of writing is
> something I do purely for selfish reasons. No-one reads the vast
> majority of my writing; the process is more important than the
> product. I just like to write the way some people like to whittle.
> That is the largest part of my motivation for my writing, that I
> simply enjoy doing it. But it's not the not the most important
> reason. It's my gift to you, a way of saying Thank You to teachers
> and fellow students, and a tool and resource for those who yearn
> for
> the knowledge. The training groups tell me my descriptions of the
> exercises are helpful to their practice. That alone is more than
> sufficient reason to write.
>
> I wanted share those few crystalline moments that are easiest for
> me
> to recall with great clarity, because I was truly living in the
> now.
> For me, it's mostly learning to control time. The other dimensions
> are not so tricky. I find mastery of time elusive, like chasing a
> soap bubble. There is plenty in my journals about my struggles at
> camp, but for now, I hope you will enjoy these relaxing moments
> when
> I experienced that flow feeling of somehow controlling time,
> slowing
> it down, stretching it out, making it work for me, rather than
> being
> swept along by it like a twig in a stream. Occasionally, though
> rarely, I experienced an effortless mastery of a situation which,
> in
> my humble opinion, doesn't come solely from practice, but also from
>
> state of mind. Konstantin told us mastery of a situation is 95%
> psychological, and now more than ever, I believe Systema is a
> feeling
> or state of mind rather than a series of physical actions.
>
> I don't want to make it sound as if I did all the exercises with
> ease, and I want to add that I think it's good to struggle, too. If
>
> all the exercises are fluent and effortless, then it's better to
> add
> limitations to keep yourself constantly learning and adapting.
> Struggle for improvement, in practice and in life, strengthens the
> spirit. For me, personally, hardship is not without purpose, it is
> not senseless, random, or pointless. It is during the hardest
> moments
> of life that we see the selfless and noble attributes of humanity
> shining like a beacon in the darkness. Tennyson said it best: "To
> seek, to strive, and not to yield."
>
> Crystalline Moments: Excerpts from Rachel's Camp Journals
> Table of Contents
> Introduction: A Fox in the Woods
> Fields: A Glimpse of Youth
> The Woods are Full of Surprises
> The City: There's No Place Like Home
> Water and Freedom from Fear
> Conclusion: Brief and Shining Moments
>
> INTRODUCTION: A FOX IN THE WOODS
>
> On the first night, and frequently thereafter, Konstantin talked of
>
> letting go of your expectations and accepting the true
> circumstances
> that you see and feel, not the preconceived notions your mind
> manufactures. This applies not only to the exterior world, but also
>
> in the way we view ourselves. That is why I want to share these
> before and after photos with you. The one on the left was taken in
> June of 2004, at Vlad's seminar at Fighthouse. You can see me
> hiding,
> standing next to my mother, looking a bit uncertain. Now look at
> the
> one on the right, standing next to these two great teachers who
> have
> literally changed the course of my life. I look so much more happy,
>
> relaxed, and confident. And I actually like this photo of myself,
> perhaps more than any other photo that has ever been taken of me,
> because I think my true nature is revealed by it. Poznai sebia,
> just
> as it is described. I thought I knew myself pretty well, but in
> some
> ways, I am only just beginning to know myself, my capabilities, and
>
> the strength of my spirit. I wish I could tell you more, but there
> are some things that cannot be captured in words, and perhaps it is
>
> more fitting that they should not be.
>
> If you were at camp, I think you will learn a lot by looking at
> photos of yourself as a youth, one year ago, and during or just
> after
> camp. The photo with my two teachers reminds me of the photos of
> myself when I was younger, about 12-14 years old. I was a feisty
> kid,
> and it's just as well that this fieriness has lessened with age. It
>
> would have burned me out. In some ways, I was too confrontational,
> and in some of those photos of myself, my eyes look almost angry.
> It
> wasn't because I was unhappy, just a little hot-tempered and
> stubborn. I think if you look closely at the young photo, you can
> see
> that I have a strong look in my eyes, but there's also a tinge of
> defiance. In the photo with my teachers, the defiant look has gone,
>
> replaced, I think, by sensitivity. And yet there is a certain
> similarity between these two images of myself, almost like I've
> come
> full circle, and perhaps a little bit more, too.
>
>
> One of my great influences in life have been horses, and I look
> confident in those photos of myself with horses. Everyone is at
> home
> in the circumstances with which they are most familiar. I've never
> had confidence in abundance, but I have always been comfortable
> around horses, and from the ages of 10-18, I acquired a fairly
> extensive and almost expert knowledge of these creatures. I can't
> say
> that about anything else, although I have a good knowledge of
> computer programming and the English language, but I am not an
> expert. I think that's why the confidence is more apparent in the
> photos of myself as a youth than as a young adult. But of course
> Systema can make us young again.
>
> I want to describe a particular moment that is perhaps the most
> important one in my life so far, a crystalline moment, something I
> think about regularly, and which affected my life deeply. Perhaps I
>
> will never experience this again, but just having felt this way
> once
> is more than sufficient.
>
> A Fox in the Woods
> I was about 14 years old, riding through the woods of Long Island
> on
> a large black Quarter Horse. He enjoyed trying to throw me off,
> bucking and twisting his spine, shying and bolting at ordinary
> objects, always trying to take me by surprise, like on our way home
>
> from a long ride, when I thought he was too tired for high jinks,
> that's when he'd bolt, sometimes into oncoming traffic (we had to
> ride on the road to get to the woods.) That's why he was my
> favorite.
> I love even-tempered animals, Labradors, fat gentle ponies, and
> sleepy housecats. But I have a particular affection for the more
> ornery of domestic creatures, especially horses that buck. They
> have
> a little bit of wildness, a little "game," and it's this drive,
> "the
> look of eagles," that makes them the most exciting.
>
> I was riding in the woods where the local fox hunt would
> congregate.
> Fox-hunting is a popular sport among Long Island's wealthy, and one
>
> of which I do not approve. Foxes are no threat to livestock on Long
>
> Island; no one keeps chickens in the affluent neighborhoods where
> fox-
> hunts are held. Even if they did, shooting a fox for stealing
> chickens is one thing, but hunting it down into exhaustion and
> letting the hounds tear it apart, not to mention the disgusting
> practice of smearing the bloody, feces-ridden tail all over a
> child's
> face during his first hunt, is just far too cruel and barbaric for
> my
> tastes. I see nothing sporting about fox-hunts.
>
> Because of the hunts, Long Island foxes are especially wary of
> people
> and horses. So when I spotted a red fox while riding through the
> woods, I thought it was a rare bit of luck. I had never seen one
> before, and never since. The fox froze, and I halted the horse. I
> figured I would have only a second or two to observe the beautiful
> creature before he bolted away. I willed the horse to be still,
> absolutely still, not to flick his tail or stamp a hoof or chew the
>
> bit. This is accomplished by using body weight. Horses are very
> sensitive. If you watch a fly land on a horse's back, the horse
> will
> immediately twitch. It's almost like you only need to think of
> halting the horse before he senses that it what you want him to do.
>
> Their entire defense against predators is dependent on perception,
> and that's why they bolt easily. But I willed the horse to stand
> still, and he did. The fox was also still. Of course, to keep them
> both still, I had to remain completely still myself, with my mind
> quiet and unruffled. I have never been so still, and I don't think
> I
> even know how to do it anymore.
>
> I felt in complete mastery of the situation. The horse was utterly
> under my control, and that was a major accomplishment because he
> was
> not a meek creature, but one who always pushed the
> boundaries&#65533;took
> advantage of my slightest moment of inattention to seize control.
> The
> fox was also under my control, so long as I and the horse remained
> still, he would not move either, because movement would attract our
>
> attention. And most importantly, I had control over myself, which
> was
> far from easy. I was just entering the difficult teen years. The
> only
> way to explain it is that I felt complete mastery of the situation,
>
> my control over myself, the spirited horse, and the wild fox. After
>
> many minutes, it was I, not the fox, who decided that I had looked
> my
> fill and it was time to get going.
>
> I've never felt like that before or since. But I got small glimpses
>
> of this kind of stillness during my time at camp. And I want to
> share
> some of those moments with you.
>
>
>
> FIELDS: A GLIMPSE OF YOUTH
>
> This was our second day at camp so I was not as skilled as the
> later
> days. But I did feel very comfortable in the field, especially at
> night. It's very beautiful and tranquil, and it reminds me of my
> teenage years, when my friends and I spent many night standing in
> Woodhull field on Long Island. It is only just now as I write this
> that I realize Woodhull field is special to me. It was surrounded
> by
> forest and the trees were lined with mossy banks that were soft for
>
> sitting. We played many games of Ring O' Levio there and spent many
>
> nights in one particular corner of the field. An especially
> beautiful
> aspect of Woodhull was the swirls of fog and dew that drifted lowly
>
> through the field in the early morning hours. My friend insisted
> they
> were ghosts, will o' wisps, but it was just the wind and the fog.
>
> There were other fields, and the memory of these natural places has
>
> remained so crisp, even as my other memories of youth faded. I
> spent
> years in these places, and it's like I can remember them down to
> the
> last rock and stone, just as I remember the house I grew up in, and
>
> the things that were in the hallway closet, even though I haven't
> lived there in twenty years.
>
> These memories of youth affected the way I viewed the field at
> night.
> Experiences shape our approach in so many ways. Donne said "No man
> is
> an island," but sometimes I feel as each of us is his own universe.
>
>
> On Monday day, we did a drill where half of us camouflaged
> ourselves
> in the woods; I think we were given one or two minutes to hide. As
> I
> lay with my face pressed into the leaves, I thought to myself,
> "This
> is so awesome! Exactly what I wanted to do on my vacation!" I
> didn't
> feel as if I was good at hiding, but I've always loved playing in
> the
> woods.
>
> At night, towards dusk, Konstantin explained that this is time when
>
> significant things happen. He mentioned this during the day, as
> well,
> when we were working on the border of the field where it meets the
> woods. He said that interesting things happen on the borders,
> between
> dusk and dark, or between grass and woods, and quoted "Genius is
> one
> step away from insanity." Before the light faded, we were given a
> good 15 minutes to study and mirror our partner's movement as they
> stood in one place, doing mime-like movements, then they walked
> around slowly while we trailed, stepping exactly as they did, and
> then walking a bit faster, changing direction, dropping and
> rolling,
> etc. This is actually a tracking skill, as I learned when my
> partner
> stepped into the woods, then into the field again. I had followed,
> but by the time he stepped into the field, I was still crunching
> loudly in the woods. Tracking is more than just mirroring, when my
> partner changed terrain, I had to speed up or slow down to hide the
>
> sound of my movement.
>
> I only just realized that my time in Woodhull field is a big part
> of
> why I felt relaxed and happy in that environment. I guess the only
> way I can put it is that there is just something magic about a
> field
> at night.
>
>
>
> THE CITY: THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME
>
> Systema is great for city life and for crowd work, and city
> dwellers
> usually feel comfortable doing these exercises. We tried an
> exercise
> in four rooms above the mess hall: the rec room, and some staff
> quarters. We were given a few minutes to walk around these rooms,
> observing all the windows, entrances, floors, and walls, and then
> pick a spot in the rec room, close our eyes, and find our way to
> the
> back room where there was a second entrance, and then back again to
>
> the spot where we started. I surprised myself by doing this with
> ease. Then we did the same exercise leading our partners, both of
> us
> with eyes closed, except this time we had to go back to the first
> entrance and open the door. Again I could not believe it, but I was
>
> the first one to open the door.
>
> We also did some crowd exercises where three groups formed three
> concentric rings in tight circle with Sergei in the middle. The
> goal
> was for everyone to touch Sergei, come out of the circle, and
> repeat
> twice more, touching him a total of 3 times, with 30 seconds to
> complete the task. Although Konstantin told us 30 seconds was
> plenty
> of time, there was a mad scramble because of the time limit. I am
> not
> sure why, perhaps from cooking, or Systema class, but I have a good
>
> sense of how long 30 seconds is, and it's longer than most people
> think. I knew I didn't have to rush and that helped me not to get
> flustered. Unlike the above exercise in the staff quarters, in
> which
> I surprised myself, I just knew I could do this one with the
> concentric groups&#65533;there was no room for doubt, just absolute

> confidence.
>
> I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I seemed to be the most
> fluent
> at the urban exercises, because I have been living in NYC for the
> last 15 years. But I had this fantasy of myself as some kind of
> Sylvan wood-nymph/Sacagawea/Artemis type gliding silently and
> effortlessly through the woods like a dryad or one of those deadly
> ladies from House of Flying Daggers. I always wanted to be a Boy
> Scout, read the manual many times, as well as other woodland
> survival
> books, and was fascinated with identifying edible wild foods (which
>
> my mother grudgingly cooked for me alongside the family
> vegetables).
> But I guess the reasons I prefer to live in the city are the same
> ones that made me most fluent at the urban exercises. I think my
> psyche feels most comfortable in that environment, as Konstantin
> might describe it. The close-quarters work seems to suit me. Hmm, I
>
> wonder if this is why some of the guys at camp called me "the
> female
> assassin"?
>
>
>
> THE WOODS ARE FULL OF SURPRISES
>
> My favorite and least favorite training was in the woods. During
> the
> day in the woods, even with my eyes closed, I felt so at home. My
> favorite training session was fighting in the woods, which last
> year's participants described as the "sand pit." They described
> getting very dirty and sandy so I don't know if it was the same
> location, because I didn't get too dirty. Or maybe I just like
> getting dirty (certainly fighting dirty, anyway : ) ) I am used to
> practicing at the park and the beach. At the beach, the sand gets
> everywhere, down my bathing suit, and in my scalp, it collects in
> my
> bathtub, and even after I shower, my bed sheets are sandy. But it's
>
> worth it to fall on the nice soft sand : ) ) and practicing
> outdoors
> has so many benefits. The pine needles are even better, soft,
> clean,
> and sweet-smelling. I think the pine forest was the most relaxing
> and
> enjoyable place I've ever practiced.
>
> Vlad showed us some basic guidelines for working among the trees,
> whipping the branches around to hit your partner, rolling into the
> tree, slipping between the branches to trap your partner, and
> collapsing and rolling away to avoid being pushed into the tree. He
>
> showed so many other things, of course, that is only a partial
> list.
> Then we put all these things together and worked freely. Scott M.
> was
> chasing me through the trees. We were supposed to use the trees and
>
> branches to attack and defend. The trees took a beating, for which
> I
> felt sort of bad as I don't like to disturb nature. But they were
> hardy trees and it was so much fun to spar inside a tree's
> branches.
> It looked as if there was no room within the tree to fight
> effectively, and yet somehow, I found space to not only defend, but
>
> also occasionally trap Scott as well. I had one of those perfect
> moments when I was really feeling fluid, and had even been rolling
> without fear because the ground was so soft. At one point, I had
> fallen on my back and Scott was leaning down to continue the
> attack,
> so I flung a handful of leaves and pine needles into his face and
> managed to scurry away. Scott laughed and the moment was pure fun,
> just like being a kid again.
>
> I also enjoyed the exercise where we started on the path with eyes
> closed, walked quietly twenty paces into the woods, and returned to
>
> the same spot where we started. Systema has taught me to walk
> quietly, and as long as I was careful and maintained good form and
> breathing, I was relatively quiet. But the moment I started to
> hasten
> or to walk without breathing, I began to crunch. KK told us there
> are
> two ways to walk through the woods which different people will
> prefer
> at different times. One is to stay upright and slip between the
> branches, in Systema posture. The other was to walk in a slightly
> lowered position, sweeping the branches aside with the hands like
> feelers. He took a poll to see how many preferred each way, it was
> about half and half (Konstantin didn't walk around giving us
> individual instruction, because he couldn't, due to the nature of
> the
> exercises. His presence would have interfered with the training.
> But
> he did ask the class for feedback at the end of each exercise,
> which
> was very helpful to all of us and an excellent teaching method.)
>
> We did another exercise where one partner walked twenty paces into
> the woods, clapping every three seconds, while the other stood at
> the
> path observing their walk. Then the clapping partner was to halt,
> lean against a tree, and clap every ten seconds. The partner at the
>
> path had to close their eyes and walk into the woods and find their
>
> clapping partner. This wasn't too challenging because you knew your
>
> partner was at around twenty paces. But having 50 other people
> clapping made it a little tricky. The first time I did it, I didn't
>
> observe my partner's entry, but kept an unfocused gaze. To my
> surprise, once he stopped, I walked straight to him through the
> woods
> with my eyes closed. When he stopped clapping, I stopped as well,
> listened for awhile, trying to locate him to no avail, and finally
> he
> reached out and touched me. I had stopped just a few inches away. I
>
> still cannot believe I walked right to him, as I ended up close
> enough to reach out and touch him, and I would have done so if he
> kept clapping.
>
> The second time we did this, I made the mistake of observing the
> path
> he took and trying to duplicate it with my eyes closed. That didn't
>
> work at all. Konstantin later told me I needed to free my psyche.
> It
> is sometimes like taking a big leap of faith. It seems impossible,
> like some supernatural skill, to find your partner in the woods
> with
> eyes closed. Even if you think it's impossible, that's OK. Just
> don't
> try to tell yourself precisely how to do it. It's like suspending
> the
> linear concept of time&#65533;step-by-step is not always the
easiest way
> to
> learn a skill, sometimes it has to be all at once.
>
> The exercises in the woods reminded me of a drawing exercise
> called "eye-on-contact." It is a way to draw on the right side of
> the
> brain, rather than the creative left side as is more typical. You
> place a small object with some contours, such as a bottle of ink or
> a
> small statuette, on the table in front of you. Then you draw the
> object without looking down at your paper, keeping your eye on the
> object the entire time, not lifting your pen from the paper,
> and "feeling" its contours as you draw. I like to do this with old-
> fashioned pen-and-ink rather than felt-tip or ball point. Pencil
> does
> not work so well because you cannot tell if you lifted the point.
> With a little practice, the "eye-on-contact" drawings will be far
> more accurate than when you draw by looking at the object, then the
>
> paper. Your mind adds some clutter between the steps, and the end
> result will be your idea of a bottle of ink, rather than a true
> depiction of it. That personal idea of the bottle of ink is usually
>
> the goal in art, to express creativity. Photo-realistic drawings
> are
> usually less interesting than interpretative ones. But sometimes,
> it's good to explore different capabilities, to see the creativity
> even in a rigid art like calligraphy, or to see the logic in a
> fluid
> pursuit like pen-and-ink drawing.
>
> Even though I loved the exercises in the woods with eyes closed, at
>
> night in the woods, I felt somewhat helpless. Oddly enough, if I
> was
> walking alone in the forest at night, I would have been more
> relaxed
> than with the other campers. Alone, I would have been able to
> choose
> my own pace, but trying to keep up with the group or with my
> partner
> made me feel anxious. My partner Olga was absolutely at ease in the
>
> forest at night, and moved rather quickly. I found myself clutching
>
> at her just so I didn't lose her. Her skill in the woods at night
> amazed me and far outstripped my own. And she didn't even seem
> conscious of it; it just flowed out of her. She walked in the woods
>
> at night as boldly as she did during the day, and when we hid, she
> was absolutely silent and still. I was careful and slow, so why was
> I
> the one who constantly got slapped with branches and made a huge
> racket?
>
> I learned a great deal about myself in the woods at night. During
> the
> ambush exercises, groups of four had to hide near the path and
> ambush
> people walking the path, taking the paper that was taped to their
> back. That was, without a doubt, the time when I felt the most
> uncomfortable. I felt my joints lock up as I was hiding, but I
> didn't
> want to change position, because I didn't want to let down the
> others
> by making noise. They were dressed in full camo, and didn't seem
> particularly delighted to be paired with Olga and I (although they
> quickly changed their minds about her). And when it came time to
> ambush, the others developed an excellent plan of attack, and Olga
> ambushed three times as many people as everyone else. I did not
> participate in the planning, and I found myself unable to move when
>
> it was time to attack. It was as if I was frozen in place. It was
> interesting to see other people exhilarated by an exercise that
> disturbed me (and these roles would be reversed in among all of us
> in
> different settings). I asked Konstantin about it later, why I froze
>
> up and was unable to even ambush one person, and that's when he
> said
> I need to free my psyche, and later I was told that he also said
> that
> it was too compartmentalized. When I asked him that question, he
> answered it immediately with just a few words. Although we don't
> speak the same language, Konstantin is just so skilled at conveying
>
> the knowledge. There are no wasted words, and he is an extremely
> compelling speaker, a strong presence, you just cannot look away.
> And
> of course, what he taught us is fascinating. I've never met anyone
> who knows so much about human nature. All the good and terrible
> things we do, I got the sense that Konstantin has seen the full
> range. What a marvelous thing that a member of the GRU should be a
> Ph.D. in psychology. It makes perfect sense, but it seems uncommon
> here in the U.S. Nor, for that matter, would I ever have the
> privilege of being taught by an active member of the U.S. Secret
> Service. I thought I was lucky just to study Systema at all, but to
>
> study with Vlad and Konstantin for a week&#65533;wow, I never would
have
> imagined I'd be so lucky.
>
> I have been to Vlad's seminars before, although it was only at camp
>
> that I got to know him a little better and now I consider him a
> friend. Vlad's material was of course more familiar to me, but the
> environments were different than my everyday training location and
> so
> there were many new tactics I learned to utilize the environment to
>
> my advantage. But Konstantin's material was almost entirely new to
> me. I had some very basic knowledge of body language and other
> cues,
> but nothing like the information he shared with us. For some
> professionals, reading body language could save lives. That's the
> amazing thing about the training camp. The information was
> extremely
> well-suited to law enforcement and first responders, and yet it was
>
> also perfectly suitable for rank beginners. I would guess there are
>
> very few styles that can accommodate that wide of a range of skill
> using the same drills and exercises.
>
> Returning to the woods, I loved them during the day, but at night,
> I
> was constantly worried about losing the others, even though I knew
> I
> could find my way back to camp and I had a flashlight in my pack.
> I've spent much time in the woods at night, just recreationally,
> but
> that did not help me when there was a task to be done, whether
> keeping up with the others, or ambushing people. It was a strange
> and
> curious feeling. My confidence was misguided, and I was not skilled
>
> in the woods at night as I thought I would be, whereas my
> understanding of Olga's ability (that she was careless in the woods
>
> and not focussing on memorizing landmarks or drawing maps) was
> completely wrong, and she was remarkably skilled in the woods.
> Without Olga, I might have felt even more lost.
>
> There is more about the woods at night, and my courageous partner
> Olga, in my daily journals.
>
> The ambush exercise also illustrated another contradiction in my
> impression of myself. I'd be an excellent tactician, and that I
> would
> enjoy forming a plan to ambush, with my logic skills, my tendency
> to
> apply Occam's razor, and my love of exploring all viable
> possibilities. But strategy also requires creativity, and I guess I
>
> haven't found this kind of creativity within myself yet. I was
> surprised and perhaps a little disappointed that I have more skill
> with the close-quarters work, when the conflict has already begun,
> than initiating an attack. I thought I could be one of the
> tacticians, but it turns out I'd be better at storming a building,
> taking out a sentry, and rescuing hostages. The closer the
> quarters,
> the easier it seems to be for me. But for some reason, this
> realization that strategy isn't my strong point made me feel as if
> I
> could only be the muscle and not the brains of any operation. And I
>
> had expected that I'd be just the opposite. But I have since
> accepted
> my own skills for what they are here and now. Besides, you didn't
> see
> James Bond spending too much time in the woods. He mainly operated
> in
> the cities or at least, in hotel rooms, ski chalets, submarines,
> and
> other enclosed spaces. So I'm in good (if entirely fictional)
> company. I'd like mine stirred, though. Shaking bruises fine
> liquor.
>
>
>
> WATER AND FREEDOM FROM FEAR
>
> "You don't drown by falling in the water; you drown by staying
> there."
> -Edwin Louis Cole
>
> In all four environments (which Konstantin described as metaphors),
>
> there was always a segment of the group that was most at home. I
> always thought I'd be a woods/fields person; I love camping and
> wood-
> lore and always wanted to be a Boy Scout. To my surprise, I got
> freaked out in the woods at night, and as much as I enjoyed the
> field, I don't think I was very good at camouflage or tracking. I
> was
> unsurprised that I was more adept at the urban environment, but
> water? I am not even a good swimmer, and I don't usually go out
> over
> my head. I also don't like holding my breath, sometimes I panic
> during those no-breath exercises. But I don't get freaked out by
> water, I love swimming. I was surprised that some of people were
> freaked out by just being in the water, and I imagine they are from
>
> landlocked areas. The interesting thing was two of the guys who
> told
> me they didn't like water were military men, one of whom was
> trained
> to leap into the water from great heights. Because I love swimming,
>
> it was just like playing to me. (Well, except the part where your
> partner holds your head underwater while striking you.) The water,
> more than any other setting, is where I got the closest glimpse of
> fear, in my classmates, some of whom would not enter the water (it
> was the only environment where significant portion of the students
> would not enter), and in myself, because I expected myself to be
> fearful but instead felt energized and quite at home.
>
> I was accustomed to the lake, because I swam whenever possible; it
> was so refreshing and invigorating to swim in the ancient and
> beautiful waters. It was faster than showering and a wonderful
> energizer between training sessions. In my opinion, it was one of
> the
> nicest aspects of the camp. I don't usually get to swim in lakes
> because I live in the city, so I felt that swimming in the lake
> really healed my spirit which is sometimes worn down by urban life.
>
> The tranquil lake is the exact opposite of the bustling city.
>
> Because I swim in the ocean, my friends think I am a huge wimp
> about
> swimming, because I'm terrified of crabs. I have to turn away
> whenever I see them. They actually make me feel queasy and fill me
> with dread. I always approach the water cautiously and hesitantly,
> looking down suspiciously at everything that moves, and sometimes I
>
> freak out and run back to shore if I see a possible crab. I had
> forgotten that lakes do not make me feel this way; freshwater
> creatures are cute and lovable, not evil and scary like
> crustaceans.
> I mean, what kind of creature has an exoskeleton? Only robots,
> aliens, and shellfish. If you think about that for a moment, it's
> ominous.
>
> I jumped into the lake happily without any hesitation, which made
> me
> feel as if I was a kid again, camping with my family as we used to
> in
> the summers. I am not a good swimmer so I don't like to go over my
> head. I found it interesting that some people were freaked out by
> just being in the water, even up to their knees, although they
> could
> swim and probably a lot better than I can (the doggie paddle is my
> favorite stroke). The fact that I don't get cold also made the lake
>
> easier for me. I think it's because I have more padding. When we
> did
> the fighting in the water, some of the skinnier guys were
> absolutely
> shivering when we stood on the shore to watch demonstrations. The
> lake water was quite warm, in my opinion, but sometimes the air was
>
> cold, but it never bothered me.
>
> From the pictures from last year, this is the one thing I didn't
> think I'd be able to do. I get a little panicky when I can't
> breathe,
> I start to freak out. But I just loved fighting in the water. I
> wasn't so crazy about having my partner hold my head under water
> for
> ten seconds while he hit me, but the rest of it was great. None of
> the rules applied in the water, my feet had more drag, and all the
> sneaky ground tricks with my legs, which I think are my best
> skills,
> completely failed to work in the water. Ground work when your body
> is
> underwater is completely different than on dry land. Standing up,
> it's more similar to working on land, except with a lot more
> splashing and there is the slowness of the water dragging on limbs.
>
> Like fighting in the pine trees, fighting in the water felt more
> like
> horsing around than training for combat. I half-expected the life
> guard to blow the whistle at us!
>
> This wasn't really a crystalline moment, but Vlad looked over at me
>
> just as I had kicked my partner and because my foot had slower
> drag,
> his jaw sank down into my knee. This was a complete accident as we
> were accepting the kicks rather than avoiding, but working in the
> water requires a different set of timing&#65533;I think we would
have
> had to
> spend an hour or two to get a good grasp of it. Vlad looked over as
>
> this happened and said "She's dangerous!" and laughed&#65533;he is
so
> good-
> natured, and so generous with the compliments.
>
> A more crystalline moment was when I was climbing out of the water
> after practicing some throws with my partner&#65533;throws in the
water
> are
> of course a lot of fun as the water is better than any mats. I felt
>
> exhilarated, the water is so energizing, and Systema practice
> always
> gives me a good feeling. Valerie said "Rachel!" in a sort of
> surprised, encouraging way, which was so sweet. I got the feeling
> she
> was proud of me, although we'd only just met. She was so kind and
> supportive to all of us. I have to admit, I did feel brave, because
> I
> knew how I personally had felt about the prospect of fighting in
> the
> lake. It is the one thing that I thought I would not have the
> courage
> to do, I thought I'd be too scared, but it turned out that I loved
> it. That is an interesting feeling, learning that something that
> you
> dreaded is actually something that you love. It makes me wonder
> what
> else about myself I don't know.
>
> CONCLUSION: BRIEF AND SHINING MOMENTS
>
> Above I've written some of the most enjoyable moments of Systema
> camp. I would like to share more, but it's a struggle to be
> concise,
> rather than report back to you everything that happened. My
> complete
> journals are more inclusive, and I will start posting those soon.
> There you will find the trials and tribulations as well as the
> joyful
> ease. I hope you liked reading these little moments of clarity.
> They
> were like sunlight streaking through the trees, which were
> sometimes
> rather dense, but without the branches, the sunlight wouldn't look
> so
> beautiful.
>
> *Vsego nailuchshego* (best wishes),
> Rachel
>
>
>
>
>