The Final Goblin
I want to make an introduction…
Not for me but rather I want to introduce you to yourself as I see you.
I feel pretty positive there are 100 goblins in your mind telling you that you aren’t good enough, that your work is bad, that you don’t fence well enough, that you are an imposter in a tradition to which you do not belong.
Consider me the final goblin and I’m here to tell you who you really are.
You struggle, you strive, you suffer… and why? There are traditions of combat, combat with swords. They were at once beautiful but terrible and many of them were lost.
Against all odds and in defiance of the world around you, you chose to become part of these traditions. Your actions and your work restores them, preserves them, resurrects them from their paper graves to give them new light realized in the art of human beings again.
Every day, someone in this world, without knowing it, produces the best of their tradition for the day in that moment: a moment the dead masters would cherish because their voice speaks through you as part of a living story.
When you fence you become an artist and an alchemist of violence; that which was meant for destruction and killing you transmute into beauty, fellowship, knowledge, skill.
The early goblins will tell you that you don’t belong here… Listen to me, your final goblin, you are a part of your tradition and its history.
The work you do today allows it to live, to breathe, to grow. You belong here, you are part of the history of the tradition, and when you are long dead those who follow you may well look back at your work and nod, “Were it not for this person, we would be less.”
The tradition is not the sole property of the perfect, it is for those who show up.