A storm is coming, you look up expecting it, face it, eyes looking in the dark for signs of clouds. Light flashes briefly illuminating the dark. Water splashes your face like cold sweat or repressed tears. It’s getting closer.
The temperature dropped 10 degrees in one gust of wind.
The drops of rain become bigger, colder, more frequent. Hints of lightning pop in the distance. I heard it coming as if it heard my thoughts. A gust of wind and a shower of rain. The lightning sparked brighter. That’s when I took refuge in my 15 year old tent. The rain pushed harder, like an invisible monster just outside my nylon shelter. I sat like a Buddha on a three legend stool waiting for it to pass. I heard no thunder but the lightning increased. The roof began to leak and cold water dropped on my head. I watched the tent wall breathe with the uncertainty of the outside. The temperature continued to drop and my wet head began to get cold. That’s when it really came down. I turned on my headlamp and saw a river starting to form around my feet. That’s also when I heard the first rumble of thunder. There was no sleeping until this was over. When the rain subsided and I thought it was over, Thor strikes his anvil and it starts all over again. The thunder was coming stronger, the lightning brighter. I was tired and sleepy. I took my chances on my now floating mattress. Cold and wet and loud thunder surrounding me. I needed sleep.
At the beginning of the night I was sweating in my t-shirt and Jeans, half drunk and talking shop with other sword fighters in a humid swamp just outside of Houston. Then the gust of wind hit and we scattered. I sat in a rain storm in my leather jacket I’ve had since I was 15, (that’s 25 years now).
Once the storm was at its strongest I was bundled in my leather jacket with a blanket on and I could see my breath. This is what I signed up for, I thought. I knew there was a storm coming. Of all the things I’ve endured so far this year, why not add camping in a thunderstorm under a tornado watch?
This past year I kept looking for something magical or spiritual. Magic in the true sense, supernatural, something without explanation. Magic keeps happening in front of me, I keep finding it, but never truly acknowledging it.
I saw a butterfly on the stage at Celtic fest. A band was playing and a butterfly flitted around my head. I watched it clumsily fly toward the stage. It approached the lead singer, hovered in his face briefly and went on its way. It was then I realized all the magic I’ve seen but never really called it that.
That night at the Celtic Fest, I watched angelic clouds float in the sky pierced by moon beams. My mind was like a child’s, nothing really needed explanation, everything just was. Without the explanations, everything is magic. I can explain a butterfly flying around my head, I can explain tricks of moonlight bouncing off flowing clouds. I can explain thunderstorms and Lunar Eclipses. But when you take away the explanations and just enjoy what you see in front of you, there is a magic to the rarities: to butterflies and moonbeams.
And so, on the shores of a moat surrounding a castle, in the shadow of a trebuchet, I competed in another tournament. No accolades this time, no hard fought victory, just a good time with old friends and new, after spending the night in a weather worn tent in a thunderstorm. Only then did I appreciate the magic that has surrounded me.
After the tournament I started feeling it: the wearing down. The emotional toll more so than the physical. One always outweighs the other. I was now 3 weeks into my 5 week trail. I was half way through my journey when I realized a monster was hot on my trail.
The pressure was mounting. I was starting to feel the strain. The following week I would complete in the CG Games Finals. I was nervous for the games, more so than for the tournaments. Maybe because I felt like I didn’t stand a chance. I didn’t want a replay of the prelims. I wanted to be rested, prepared, ready mentally but I was unsure if I was prepared physically.
But that, dear reader, is a story for another day.
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