Iceberg, Let Us

The “sport fencer” sees only the superficial: the domination of others. They live in the transient, short-term world of the purely physical, relying on size, strength and speed. There is little need for tactical sophistication, and strategic finesse is an alien concept.  Two fencers may be playing at the same time, but it’s not a duet. There’s no harmony. It’s just two people each trying to play louder and faster than the other.

For the classical swordsman, the martial artist, that is inadequate and unsatisfying. We know there is more – much more – below the surface, and that what is unseen may profoundly influence that which is seen. We want to know where the iceberg came from and how it came to be, and where it’s going.

We want to understand the currents, the effect of the winds, the life in the surrounding sea. We want to know about the clouds, about the rain and the snow and the sun and the moon, and about every relationship between the iceberg and everything else that exists in creation – including ourselves.

And yet, we understand that it’s just a bunch of water.

aac