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I wasn’t worried it would get back to the teacher as it was only between the two of with what happened.
I had decided to let it go, and I’m sure they were glad to not bring it up.
Harmony restored for now.
I was explaining to a group of students a particular point in the movement, how it relates to a strike, and that was the moment it happened.
To the students listening, one moment we were talking, and the next moment he was on the ground, pinned under my arms and knee.
The disconnect was from what happened in between.
One moment he was standing next to me, the next moment on the ground.
That was the perspective given to them.
That was the pivotal moment when I had to decide what to make of it, deciding to just say nothing and move on, release them and continue practice.
Let them wonder what happened, leaving the unknown would make sure that he didn’t try it again on me.
What did he hope would have happened?
That a part of my description of what we were talking about sounded like a command to throw a punch, as if I asked for it to demonstrate the movement. That is what they were planning to hide behind, to offer the teacher when the punch they threw connected with me and hopefully knocked me down.
In the eyes of the other students watching bring my status down a few steps and elevate his by a few steps.
He has the skill, in many ways more naturally skilled then me, but not yet the culture of the dojo, that took a few years of genuine immersion.
The moment once crosses onto the dojo floor, they are “on”, not as in paranoia, but as in an awareness of distance, a soft awareness that is cultivated.
Put simply, they were to far away from me to hit me, but close enough that it appeared they could.
When they launched that punch it was always going to land short by a few fractions, which gave me all the time what was needed to wrap things up.
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