Because there are so many more handwritten than typed logs, I can no
longer keep the chronology. They will just be numbered as they
appear. I'm reaching the six-month mark, and I now intend to pick and
choose what I type from my handwritten logs, to offer you only the
most insightful training descriptions and tips I pick up during this
exciting journey.

But this group, as it turned it, is really my online journal. There
have been occasional comments, but for the most part, it's been all
about my training. That can change whenever the group members wish it
to, but until it does, my posts sometimes go beyond the boundary of
Systema training, and include aspects of my personal life, just as my
personal life cannot be separated from my Systema training, now that
it has become my chosen path. Systema-ists speak through movement,
and we all have a unique voice, which draws its resonance from the
experiences that have shaped our souls.

I don't always have an easy time during training, I feel as if I am
learning the skill I never learned during my grade school years—
getting along with classmates. I'm 32, and I must to learn to play
well with others. It's important not only for Systema, but for my
social and professional life as well. I've become much friendlier,
through Systema class. I thought I preferred my solitude, but I tried
it the other way, and I believe it's much better to love than to be
indifferent. If you ask the right questions, most people are
interesting, and have tales to tell, life experiences to share,
regardless of outward appearance or first impressions—many are like
myself, frosty upon meeting, warm once the acquaintance is
made. "It's not just about you, it's also about them," as my mom used
to remind me.

It's too bad that this log isn't about our guest teacher, Denis "the
Menace" (Edgar is away training with Jim King in Tennessee :). Denis
is a fun teacher, a jovial and merry person, and his voice is loud
enough to be heard all the way in the ladies' room, quite the
opposite of Edgar's soft voice, which is difficult to hear over the
capoera music. I worked with Denis a little, on the ground, while we
had our arms wrapped around the sticks, like POWs in "unfriendly
countries," as Denis politely refer to them, or, as I think of it,
like milkmaids. I love to work with the stick in this way, and I
asked Denis when we circled if we could tie our legs together in the
course of our training.

The exercises were tougher than usual for me, particularly the
squats, I can hardly bend my leg without pain, and sitting on the
floor is the only way to sit comfortably. I'm embarrassed by my pain,
not because I feel it makes me look weak, only because I hate to be
noticed, and hobbling around with my giant splint, groaning, and
sighing, it's hard not to be noticed. Pain is such a personal,
intense feeling; everyone relates to it differently. If there was any
way to practice Systema alone, I'd have discovered it, but training
with a partner gives a clear advantage and for reasons described
above, interaction is very much a part of training, as both my mom,
and another Systema teacher, reminded me.

This log is more about that second teacher that was there that night,
to our good fortune. I was having some difficulty. Sometimes I get
nervous, especially with as large a class as our night classes are.
My training doesn't always go smoothly, as you may know if you've
read the other logs. I am a bit short-tempered of late, due to the
injury described in a long-winded earlier post. The pain makes me
irritable and wired, like I've had too much coffee. It helps to sit
and roll on the floor, so Systema class has been good for me.

But as always, it's hard for me to partner with anyone, I feel
nervous about it when the classes are large. I don't like to work
with the rough guys; Human energy is not without force, we should
move with the same care as we handle weapons, yet without thinking or
planning, as a bird flies through thick treetops at high speeds
without getting caught in the branches. Systema is not about strength
or speed, because the degree of strength or speed you possess might
vary at any given moment due to circumstances beyond your control.
Speed and force are sometimes necessary, as we all know, there are no
rules in Systema, yet the energy must be channeled, directed,
focused, not haphazard, frayed with emotion and vulnerability. We
must act beyond the movement to its ramifications, and use the least
force necessary. After all, no one likes to be battered, though many
of us do not mind being soundly beaten.

My partner was too fast, entering the speed trap, it's hard to avoid
that, as Arthur Sennott described in his article about "Free
Sparring: Overcoming The Kickboxing Trap"
(http://www.russianmartialart.org/html/ikfkicktrap.html). Given my
injury, I should not have worked with this classmate. I don't like
unnecessary speed, as I try to present a challenge suitable to the
skill of my partner, which is a challenge in itself, so there's no
need to use speed on me—I yield, and with my injury, it does not take
much force to take me down. Given that my partner knows I am walking
with a cane these days, the speed was especially unwelcome. I want to
help others learn, as others taught me, but I myself do not have
enough skill to be instructing them, and more importantly, I don't
have the skill to communicate with them. There is plenty of
assistance to be had, we sometimes have the benefit of two teachers,
in addition to the longtime students, but they will not offer help
you if your mind is not willing, it will then be up to you to ask for
the help.

I'm not what you'd call a people person, for me, the distance between
myself and another person is always a great divide. Someone else
would have been more helpful, but I got annoyed with my speedy
partner, and what I perceived as his arrogance. Working with such
people can be helpful, as they do mirror the population of the real
world, but you must have the strength of will not to descend to their
level of aggression or resentment. That distant look in the eye has a
purpose. Its state of mind allows you to act without engaging either
the body or the mind, but both in one unified, thoughtless action, so
your reactions are quicker, and more adaptive, than the most
sophisticated thought process.

My partner was struck at me and said, "Gotcha now." "Can't you see
that I can break your arm," I said, as I got him in an arm lock and
hit him with my shoulder. "I never spar competitively," I bitched—
sorry, there is no other word for it. "I am not trying to win here,
just learn." I got a little pissed off, and like I said, I'm not the
most even-tempered person in the world. I wanted to hurt him, and
that's a terrible sensation, which I want to avoid at all costs, as
that is what got me into trouble all those years ago. I am wary of
anger.

I was lucky, another teacher was there; he helped me right away, with
a typical Systema efficiency. I told him I felt tense, and
frustrated, and I asked him to hit me. Edgar hits us while we spar,
he hurts me only occasionally, everyone, only as much as they can
take it, as the teachers do. This was the first time I took any
punches. It was relaxing, almost like a massage, except for the last
punch, which hurt in strange way, like a whip, very stinging, but it
sank to the depths of my stomach, and hurt for a few hours after
class. Chronic and nagging pain makes you old before your time, but
Systema pain keeps you young and limber (For your own safety, work
with an experienced practitioner when exploring this exercise.)

The teacher shook me up a bit, pushed me, made me move on my feet,
and I felt more relaxed, as he knew I would. Then we began to work
lightly, and he took me down a few times, and I fell much more softly
than I would have before his punching/shaking/pushing exercises. The
pain of my leg was a great deal lessened, due to relaxation, and the
contact with the floor is relaxing (since it is an old injury, small
fractures the result of a long-ago sprain, movement helps. But always
get treatment for a sprain, you could have broken bones and not even
realize it, because the pain of the sprain disguises it. The most
common cause of a sprain is an earlier, untreated sprain. "Treat your
joints like porcelain," Martin Wheeler advised us. )

Limbering up helps me, without it, I feel aches and pains. Someday, I
will recover my flexibility, and relaxation warm-ups won't be
necessary, but working around this injury makes me realize how far I
have to go, in terms of my relaxation, my social interaction, my
physical fitness, my strength of will. I expect it will take another
year of training 3X a week to recover my physical fitness, and I'm
back in physical therapy, as I was before I started Systema, but I am
very happy to be finally getting therapy for the old injury, and
Systema and the Russian Health Systema are also a form of physical
therapy. Dousing, breathing, stretching, and massage with Peggy's Dit
Da Jow, and a glass of red wine before bed helped me a great deal
more than the doctors at the hospital. I'm not just saying that
because of all my horrible experiences with doctors, but only in
terms of the measure of pain relief. I iced only once outside the
emergency room, didn't use crutches, didn't stay off of it, didn't
use the brace, didn't wear running shoes, opted for the wine instead
of the Benadryl (the doctor suggested either for the pain).

I enjoyed working with this teacher; I felt at last as if I were
doing Systema, sparring slowly, I don't always feel this relaxed in
class. My partner's tension affects me a great deal, it's like I
don't have the strength of will to distance myself from the emotions
of others, which is strange for someone who was once so solitary. But
after training with the teacher, all I can say is what a difference
the state of mind can make on a training session. It's like the mind
lets the body think for it, and the body lets the mind move it. Words
are insufficient to describe this feeling. It exists only in the
moment, no longer, always different, no moment is the same twice, and
can never be reproduced even in recollections. It has some parallels
to what little I know of Zen training, but as always, my words are
insufficient to describe this moment.

"Now you're doing Systema," he said, as if he was reading my mind.
Maybe he overheard my earlier remark—did I say, I don't feel as if I
am doing Systema, or only think it, when paired with my speedy
partner? But it was delightful to work with the teacher, if only it
could be that way all the time. If nothing else, smile and laugh with
your partner, freedom of movement should give you joy, like flight,
just as it says in the guidebook.

"Have confidence," my teacher said, as he challenged me further,
grabbing at me suddenly in various ways, the choke, about the
waist. "It's not about you, it's about me," he said, as he came at me
(meaning that the initial attack determines the movement; all that
follows stems from that energy that your attacker so conveniently
provides for you.)

I was talking too much, as I have been of late, from the stress and
pain. The subway is the hardest part, I am ashamed to admit that New
Yorkers don't offer even the handicapped seat to cripples. I count my
blessings that this is only temporary; I can't imagine the difficulty
of always walking with a cane in New York. No one offers you a seat
on the train, and people stampede over you, and curse at your back
because you aren't hobbling fast enough. I'm afraid there's a special
place reserved in Hell for Manhattanites, and it's about the same
size as the entire island.

The teacher made an interesting remark about people in Grand Central
not walking into each other, and people in our busy school bumping
into each other all the time. As Systema-ists, we ought to be able to
keep from crashing into each other, even in small spaces, but he is
right, go to Grand Central at rush hour, and watch the way people
swivel their hips, turning sideways to ease through the crowd, like
fish who change direction as they swim.

Anyway, after the teacher's punches took me down a notch, both in
relaxation, and arrogance, he challenged me a bit more, moving faster
and sneakier (it goes without saying that he was still tailoring our
training to my level, not his). He kept encouraging me, and telling
me to be more confident. I was afraid of being too rough, as he came
at me without warning, using all different forms of attack, and I
took him down, often using my legs. We were no longer doing the
exercises led by our guest teacher, Denis "the Menace" (Edgar is away
training in Tennessee with Jim King), instead we were sparring
creatively. I asked him if I was being too rough, and he said No, and
again encouraged me to be more confident. "Let Systema be your
words," he encouraged me, and I used my legs, which even though one
is injured, it's easier for me to unbalance my partner with my legs,
as my hips are generally more relaxed than the shoulders, so the legs
are more dynamic and effective. It was wonderful to spar that way,
it's a peaceful, thoughtless feeling, very internal. If I could find
that feeling within myself more often, both inside and outside of
class, it would improve my training on a deeper and quite personal
level.