Hey there,
Before we get into this article/story, I have a couple things I’d like to share with you:
I’ve had a love-hate (mostly hate) relationship with social media for years. Now I have work that matters to me enough to suck it up and form a new relationship with “the socials.” I’ve been more active on Twitter lately and am having fun again. You can follow me here.
I believe in always doing what makes you feel alive. It's the best way to love your life in the present and the most reliable way to achieve greatness in your future.
As the late poet John O’Donahue wrote, “May you come to accept your longing as divine urgency.” Which is why I’m committed to writing more fiction as well moving forward.
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With that, let’s get into The Exhale…
THE SAMURAI’S PAGE
He stopped at the edge of the dojo, knowing his presence inside would be unwelcome at this hour.
Students began piling out after he'd been standing there for an hour. It was another hour before his Kensei noticed him standing there.
“Kon’nichiwa!” Hello.
“My page, come in! Come in at once!"
The page jogged in, jittery because of what he was about to say.
Before he made it all the way to the Kensei, the Kensei said, "Ah. You are troubled tonight."
The page stopped in front of the Kensei, having difficulty holding his eyes.
"What is on your heart, son?"
"It's my wife, Kensei. She's leaving me."
The Kensei, the revered swordsman and sage, reached out and put both hands on both of the page's shoulders. And he said, "I see. How can I help?”
The page told him that his wife was leaving him because of his anger. His rage. "She said I have 3 days to prove to her that I can harness my anger, or she will leave me forever. I don't know what to do or who else to go to."
The threat of divorce would be a devastating prospect in any culture, but in the time of the great Japanese Samurai, some would rather choose death. The integrity and continuity of the family lineage was one of the very highest values of society. If the page’s wife left him, she would take his children, no one would give him work, and he would be filled with a deep shame until his last breath.
"Yes. I will help you," the Kensei responded. "Be here before the first light, and I will teach you to harness your anger."
"Thank you, Kensei.” He bowed. “I can't tell you how much this means to me.”
ATTACK STANCE | THE FIRST USE OF ANGER
The page entered the dojo just before first light.
The Kensei was waiting for him on a meditation cushion, two wooden swords by his side.
"Ohayō gozaimasu," said the Kensei. Good morning. He motioned for him to sit.
"Ohayō gozaimasu," said the page, sitting down. He looked at the swords and gulped. Looking down at his hands, he began to feel a penetrating stare. Can he see my thoughts? the page worried.
"Son, you're going to pay to get that seat cushion reupholstered if it rips," the Kensei chided.
"H- huh?" the page said, more than a little confused.
"Your butthole is so puckered right now you're going to pinch my seat cushion until it rips," the Kensei said, without a hint of laughter.
The page brought his attention to his butthole and burst out laughing.
Before he could respond, the Kensei smiled.
"Please,” he said, “Give the cushion a break and join me over here."
The Kensei rose and tossed him one of the wooden swords.
“You can't learn of anger by merely talking about anger,” said the Kensei. “You must feel anger to learn of anger.”
The page nodded, pretending to understand.
Just then, they were interrupted by a young girl, around eight years old. She entered the room and approached the Kensei. "Ah, little O-Yuri. Ohayō gozaimasu."
"Ohayō gozaimasu Kensei," she said as she skipped towards him.
"Excuse me, my page, I will just be a moment."
The page couldn't make out what they were saying, but he could tell that the Kensei was not happy.
Then, suddenly, the Kensei pushed the little girl. She whimpered and backed away. What the hell?! thought the page.
The Kensei followed her, attacking her with his sword.
"Nani ga okotterun da yo?!"
“What's going on?!” the page demanded, raising his sword. "Stop! She's just a girl!"
"Thank you, O-Yuri," the Kensei said with a bow.
O-Yuri stood up, grinned, and returned his bow. Then she skipped away.
The page, having already lowered his wooden sword, stood there in a mixture of anger and confusion.
What just happened? Was that a performance?
"Sometimes," the Kensei began, "you will witness injustices in the world. You will witness people with more power abusing people with less. Before your mind can put words to why something isn't right, your body will send you the signal in the form of heat, tension and energy, which you call anger.
"The Bushido Code says that you will know that the perpetrator is only doing his best. Thus you will take decisive action, with compassion in your heart. You will take every measure available to you to avoid physical violence. Speak calmly, remain open to dialogue, and when it is clear that dialogue is not an option or will not suffice—when you’ve exhausted the gentle means—then you will attack with force.”
"Kensei, I apologize, but…" The page grimaced, afraid to offend his master. "What does any of this have to do with getting my wife back?"
"Son, your anger is an ancient part of you. You will never learn to have sway over it before you learn to appreciate and allow it to serve its purpose. There are times when your anger moves you to stand up for others in the face of violence. And times when it can help other people hear you. When you speak up for others with anger in your voice, it can be like playing a song with a new instrument—a sound that gets the listener to pay more attention.
“The first use of anger is for the Protection Of Others.
“Come back tomorrow and I'll teach you the next use of anger.”
DEFENSE STANCE | THE SECOND USE OF ANGER
The page entered the dojo just before the first light.
He was surprised to find that he was there even before the Kensei. He had heard that the Kensei meditated every morning at 4:00 a.m.
When the Kensei still hadn't arrived after 10 minutes, the page sat down.
I could have slept another 30 minutes, he thought at half past the hour.
After an hour, he started feeling angry.
This is absurd. The Kensei is the most important man in all the lands… but he should have more respect.
Another 20 minutes passed. The page stood up to leave.
"Ohayō gozaimasu," he heard the Kensei’s voice behind him.
"Kensei!" the page said, straining to keep the frustration out of his voice. "You told me to be here to meet you before the first light. Where were you?"
The Kensei didn't answer. He just threw him a wooden stick and began to fight him immediately. He attacked the page with what seemed like… a genuine loathing?
The page defended himself fiercely. He thought the Kensei was trying to kill him, forgetting in the moment that the Kensei could have killed him with a single blow.
The Kensei worked him almost to the point of collapse.
Then the Kensei caught him in the ribs so hard it knocked the wind out of him. When he was bent over to catch his breath, the Kensei brought his foot up and kicked him hard to the ground.
The page lay there, sweat pooling below him.
"Hah! How dare you question me, stupid page!" the Kensei spat.
The page's face grew hot.
"You know, it's no wonder your wife is leaving you.”
The page looked up at the Kensei in shock. His mentor, his boss, the wise sage he'd grown to love. What’s going on?
"Ahhh there it is," the Kensei continued. “Anger. Even easier than I expected."
His face grew hotter.
"There it is. Mongo mad.”
The page's eyes shot open.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" he yelled, his face and chest burning red hot.
The Kensei threw his head back in laughter. "Mongo very mad!" he said, beating his fists on his chest like a gorilla.
This asshole! Is this some kind of joke? The page bolted up, ready to leave. His chest was trembling with rage at this point, as if he was in a freight train.
"Young man," the Kensei said softly. "Please sit down."
"Tell me what the point of all this is! I didn't come here for this bullshit!"
The Kensei looked at him, calm as a monk. He motioned for him to sit.
The page clenched his jaw and literally growled through slitted teeth. He sat back down, feeling embarrassed for cursing at the Kensei, of all people.
The Kensei took an audible breath and said, "Close your eyes."
He obeyed, breathing heavily.
"What do you feel in your body?"
The page thought for a long moment before saying, "I don't know."
"Check again. What do you feel in your body?"
"I feel angry. Furious."
"Good. Where do you feel this anger and fury in your body?"
GOOD?! I'm going to kill this motherfucker!
"Breathe."
The page took a massive breath. He felt as if he’d just stopped sprinting.
"My stomach and chest," he said.
"Great. What does this feeling remind you of, son?"
"What? What do you mean?"
"When else have you felt this anger and fury in your stomach and chest?"
After a few seconds, the page opened his eyes. The anger left his face. In its place was a placid stare.
Silence.
"There it is," said the Kensei. "Stuuuuuff it down," he said as he brought his hands together and did a pushing-down gesture.
"I'm over it," the page started. "Can we actually talk about why I came here?"
"Bullshit. Tell me about your relationship with your parents."
A sinking feeling. No. I didn't come here to talk about my parents. I'm over this, he thought. He thought of his beautiful wife. How he'd taken her for granted. How they had dreamt of having children and raising them to become great Samurais. How he had treated her. He thought of his 3 young children and imagined seeing them only a couple times per year. He imagined being an outcast from the community his family had inhabited for 600 years.
Finally, he managed to say, "My mom died when I was 8. My relationship with my dad is great.” He spoke of his dad more casually than was appropriate for the moment. "What does this have to do with anything?"
"Uh huh. What was dad like when mom passed?"
"He took it hard, but he got over it."
"Daddy was mean to you, wasn't he?" the Kensei said.
The man had trespassed on forbidden territory.
"How. Dare. Youuuu. I love my father very much!" said the page, apprehension giving way to boiling rage.
"Didn't give you enough attention?" he mocked, as if speaking to a child. "Didn't praise you enough?"
The truth flickered in front of the page's eyes.
He's right. I'm angry at my father.
But he couldn't betray his father by saying it aloud.
Disrespecting my father would be one of the only things more disgraceful than divorce. I could never.
The Kensei must have seen right through him, because he said, "Your failure to see your father for who he truly was is dishonorable. You protect him in your own mind because you fear betraying him.”
It was when the tension in his chest and stomach released that the page realized just how tense he was. He had been resisting his anger, and now it was just... there.
Sensing this, the Kensei handed the page the wooden sword once more.
"Rise.”
The page rose once more, exhausted.
"You'll imagine me as your father. Fight!"
The Kensei attacked the page with a new ferocity. When the page fought back, he screamed.
They went back and forth. The Kensei hit him across the knee, then allowed the page to land a blow on his shoulder. Back and forth. Back and forth. The page screamed again, a primordial scream.
"Whyyyyy?!" Swords clash.
"Why weren't you there for me?!" Direct hit.
"Why weren't you there when I needed you?!" Another direct hit.
Screams turned to sobs. He kept fighting.
"How could you treat your son like that?!"
With that, he turned and broke his stick on the ground, collapsing around the shattered pieces.
The Kensei walked away, set his stick against the wall, and filled two cups with tea.
He returned and sat down on the ground beside where the page lay, setting a cup next to him.
The page lay there, sobbing, calming, whimpering, calming, for several long minutes.
"Sometimes people will break agreements with you," said the Kensei. "Like I did this morning by showing up late."
The page looked up at him.
"In those cases, it is healthy and normal to express your anger. But in these cases you must ask yourself what you want most: to hurt them with your anger, or to get them to change. You can only have one. If you want change, then you must learn to use your anger with grace.
"Sometimes people will attack you, in which case you must defend yourself," said the Kensei. "Like I did when I insulted you.
"The second use of anger is for the Protection of Yourself.
"Come back tomorrow, and I'll teach you the final use of anger," he said, placing his hand gently on the page's shoulder.
KENGO | THE FINAL USE OF ANGER
The Kensei was not surprised when the page did not show up before first light. By the time he walked in, it was nearly noon. The page had the look of a hopeless man.
“Before we speak of the third use of anger, tell me what you know of the Kengō.”
Defeated and more confused than ever, the page mumbled, "The Kengō were some of the most skilled Samurai, notorious for their discernment.”
“What else do you know of them?”
Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as if trying to remember a dream.
Then it dawned on him.
"My wife is not my enemy—but I’ve been treating her as one."
He looked around and spotted the shattered pieces of the wooden sword from yesterday. The Kensei had started picking them up.
"This whole time, my anger has been directed at the wrong person," he said, putting his head in his hands.
"Kensei, I still don't know what to do. I've ruined my life. I don't know how I can ever make it right between us."
The Kensei walked over and handed him the pieces of the broken sword.
"The final use of anger is to shine the light on a broken heart," Kensei said. "At the gates of your heart lies your fiercest weapon. Your greatest sword of anger.
“When you were young, you experienced so much pain, you forged a protective mechanism to defend yourself from your father. Now, years later, your sword still does the only thing it knows how to do. Cut. Fight.
“But now your anger's protection of your guarded heart keeps you from healing it. By attacking and defending, you also ward off love trying to seep in.
“We cannot gain access by ignoring that the weapon exists.
“We cannot gain access by fighting it.
“We must dull its edge through exhaustion. You must feel the anger you have for your father in order for it to move through and out of you.
“Only after you have made use of it to the point of exhaustion may you put it down. You must lay the weapon down on the table and appreciate it for its years of dutiful service. Thank you, you must say. Thank you for everything you've done for me.
“As children, if we don't have someone to feel our hurt with, we learn to hide it away. Some of us learn to withdraw, making ourselves unreachable physically and emotionally. And some of us forge swords of anger and fury to protect our vulnerable hearts. In order to receive love, notice that you have a sword that kills it. Appreciate the sword, and put it down carefully. Place it at the foot of someone you trust—welcoming them into your home. Extend the palm of your heart to those who earn it, ready to receive the gift of their love.”
The page nodded silently. He knew exactly what he needed to do to win his woman back.
Huge thank you to Annie Lalla, who taught me about my own anger as well as how to deepen my relationship with my entire family.
So good. Extremely relatable.