I’m kind of finding myself and my role in the SCA changing, pretty drastically. It’s possible that this is temporary, rather than permanent due to work and other concerns, but it’s definitely different now. Obviously, as Baron of Delftwood, my role has changed. My purpose is now focused more on helping others progress, than working on my own. That being said, my personal work feels like it is still quite important, as I set more of an example than I did previously.
I kind of feel like I’m more of the gray bearded guide, than the heavy on the battle field, as well as in tournament and practice. Granted, I was never the best, nor was I one of the clear “alpha” fencers, who could expect to take the top spot at important tournaments, but I had more than a shot at most big events in the past, and do have some rather impressive credits, all things considered. I’m certain that I can’t play at that level right now. This, while a bit of a sore spot, is not really my point.
I feel that my role is now more like that of a military adviser, rather than a key part in anyone’s melee teem, so to speak. I have a lot of experience, and my advice is being sought about dealing with strategy, and training rather than being seen as a solid presence on the field. People seek my advice about dealing with personality issues, and reassurance that they are actually progressing, though slower than they can see. This is not really a bad thing, but it is different. Probably it has a good deal to do with my current practice time, and availability more than anything. It’s not a bad thing, but it feels a bit odd.
I sort of feel like I need to get my edge back so that my words are of more value. At present I’m not able to put as much time into my own training as I should. I’m no longer among the top tier in my Kingdom, and I’m still being asked to help others to get there. This is not at all bad, and I still seek opinions from Rian, for example, though he goes out of his way to explain that he’s not the fencer he once was. Frankly, though I know what he means, he can still kick my ass, so I tend to think of him as one of the best regardless. This is not bad, though it’s more of a challenge than I expected to point the student in the right direction to be a threat, rather than being a threat myself. I’m still pretty hopeful that I can get some of my ability back, and I’m not exactly a slouch on the field, but I don’t want to loose the ability to help others get there, and I don’t want to “need” to be able to perform the way I did when I was able to train like I was. Perhaps I’m just getting old, and whiny, and perhaps I am thinking of the past with a rosier view than it warranted.
A couple of years ago, when I was training for the Pearl Tournament, I had a season where I won just about every tournament I entered. This was coupled with at least two practices a week and a prize fight in every practice in my region, so clearly it makes a lot of sense that since I am no longer training at that level, I can no longer win that reliably. I feel a grand sense of “DUH!” at typing that. The thing is that I see my new role as being quite different from this highly competitive one, and I need to balance this, along with the need to stay relevant, and my general laziness. I see the use in my place, and my focus has shifted quite appropriately, though I’m not sure how to value that myself. I came into the spirit of competition quite late in life, and the aftermath is about as hard to get used to as was learning how to care about winning. I think I’m on the right path, but it doesn’t feel easy at the moment.

Some days a can do one hundred things right, and one thing wrong. That one thing will displace the rest and take center stage in my mind. Emerson said "Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."
I'm really trying...

"For the oak recalls the acorn, the acorn dreams the oak, and the stump lives in them both" George R.R. Martin (Storm of Swords).

Do you ever think you might just be asking too much of one life?

I'm not sure, but I'm thinking the presidential election is over. At this point, does President Obama need to rape a spotted owl in order to loose?

freaking out.

Pennsic War blew through me like a brief summer storm.
I had very little time at war this year, and that which I did was busy and kind of a mixed bag of joy and frustration. I was exhausted and did not fight as well as I feel I should for the most part.
The woods was a grind, and for whatever reason I moved as if I was wearing led weights around my ankles. I was leaden and carried too much into the battle that I did not need. I had moments where a few things seemed to work, but for the most part I was a better commander than a fighter at that time. I lead several pushes against the enemy, but gained at best only a few feet before getting hit and heading back to res point.
My unit fought bravely, but was usually overwhelmed by larger forces, so for a large part of the battle we worked into a holding pattern and tried to keep our lines from being flanked. At one moment I came back to find the line of allies a thin and twisted string standing in front of a much lager force that had apparently not realized that they outnumbered us. We had perhaps one fencer for every three of the enemy, and our line bent and nearly curled back on itself like a wounded snake. I stepped into an open space and called "Dress to me!"
Seemly miraculously the line immediately straightened to my lead foot. I called an advance, and we pushed slowly but methodically into the opposing line. I saw Mark and Cullain push and aggressively engage an equally sloppy line. I struck two in my path and those fencers in front of me stepped back; we won about six feet. We held that only briefly before reinforcements came to our enemy's support, and something must have broken north of my spot on the line. I was killed from behind before I had time to react to the breach. While heading back to res point I saw the assassins being engaged, but I don't know what happened to the line while I was out.
Later on I managed to turn back into an adequate fighter about four minutes from the end, but not really before that. I got to help Dona Dorinda and her cadet crush the opposition and claim a flag mere seconds before the final cannon went off ending the battle.
I found only one individual who did not take my shots, and we did speak about it. A few pointed comments, at the moment of engagement, asking if the shots were clean seemed to warrant his speaking to me after the battle. He insisted that his interpretation of events was true, and I resigned myself to the notion that this man, unique amongst fencers I have met, kept his shoulders inside his fencing mask. This was the only way a shot to the side of said mask could be called an arm wound. He also seemed confused when I pointed out that he should take draw cuts as well as thrusts. This was, however, the only problem I had during the battle, and that makes it a refreshingly polite war point.

After that, I wandered back to the battlefield and warmed up a few of the new fencers readying themselves for the novice tournament. I helped watter-bear for the the first time. When the tournament started A close friend told me that she'd been given a hard time when she tried to get water to the fencers. For some reason no one seemed to have trouble with me simply taking gallons of water and bringing it to marshals and novice fencers waiting in line. So long as I retrieved the water, no one gave me a problem at all, and the two of us made sure no one lost a place in line in order to get hydrated. I think this is why rank or authority of any sort exists in the SCA. I can help eliminate problems, and whether it is the scarf on my shoulder, or the directness of my words, it does not matter. Something gets accomplished.

After that, I fought some pickups with newly promoted Don Will Paris. I had not fought him in over a year, and while I can still throw some unfamiliar angles at him, he's fast as lightning, and a joy to spar. He's skillful, puts himself to the best use he can at any moment, and he is polite in both defeat as well as victory. I think he will make an excellent addition to the order. I'm certain he's also our youngest, and perhaps that will help provide some needed energy as well.
I also spared with THL Gabby, a dear friend, and helped her get ready for the Known World Lady's tournament. It impresses me how far she's come since she's taken the blue. Clearly Don Annias has done a great deal for her confidence as well as her skill. She fights with both her heart and her sword, which is a combination I truly treasure. So often, in the past, I found that she had seemed to give points up before they were fought. This is now vanishing, as the sun clears the morning dew from wildflowers. As the day matures, they also remember that there is something wild in them as well as something beautiful.

Today I was the last fencer off the field for the first time in a long time. This is an old tradition that my own Don, Berhend, taught me. He felt it was important that no matter who won the war, an AEthelmearc fencer needed to hold the field on the last day. I had done this with and without my mentor for a few years. Recently this was denied me by mundane life. Po, my cadet, held the field with me for a year or two, then it, along with too many of my responsibilities, essentially became his job, as I was not as free with my schedule as I had been. This year it was just the wind, the field, and my sword until it was clear that there would be no challengers. That felt richly good, though an opponent would have improved things a little. I had some time to contemplate the past and what I needed to do for the upcoming year.

Pennsic seemed to come and go like the readiness of a smile in younger days. I'm so very busy right now, and I feel a bit lost in the whirlwind of emotion and preparations that I can barely keep my head about me. Quite is a gift hard fought for these days, so perhaps it was good that I was alone with only my thoughts and sword for a while. I have much to do after the much I must do at the moment.

Fuck it. I'm going to elope.

OK, so I seem to be stuck with the Barney pick whenever I reply on LJ. It's not my default, and it's not what I always want, but there we have it. Anyone have any clues as to why?

This red wine is not going to do it. Why, oh why, did I not think to buy some more whiskey?