Ninja, Man!

I can be who I am not. I can shed all that I am and retreat to a place where I can be bothered by none. Here, with the mildewy leaves as my floor and the budding trees as my roof, can I find balance and peace of mind that I do not have to be me for a while. It is this place, sandwiched between a rundown apartment building and a shoddy retail outlet store, where I do not have to be Stevie anymore.

Sure, I can see those as they pass by on the sidewalk above, or on their smoke breaks over at the store (undoubtedly mocking me and my undeniably awesome nun-chuck skills) but, in my own little corner of the world, it doesn't matter to me. It is quiet here, save for the little creek that divides the embankments. And, it is within this quiet I am more than anyone could imagine. I do not have to listen to mother telling me to “get outside, it's such a nice day”. I do not have to deal with the staring and awkward glances on the bus as I travel to my own nirvana. I do not have to worry about hiding my nun-chucks least anyone becomes scared and calls the cops. I do not have to listen to a boss tell me when and how to do menial tasks. I just have to breath in the fresh spring air and melt away to the ninja training place deep inside my cerebral cortex.

As I twirl my nun-chucks, my breathing slows down and I become more centered. All of man's modern contraptions are blocked out and I become locked in with all that our dear mother earth has. My muscles move the wooden handles across my torso and over my back without any conscious thought to do so. It's as if my body is allowing my mind to absorb the pulse of life, of nature. Everything slows down and as my eyes slowly open, I can see myself as I should be. Not as Stevie. Not as someone who is slow, or weird. Not as someone who takes a handful of pills to make me “normal”. No, I see myself as who I truly am. I like the true me.

When I am done, I put my nun-chucks in my backpack, walk to the nearest bus stop and go home.