Movements

Some Pai Sho players see themselves as artists, see the Pai Sho board as a blank piece of parchment which they change, color and create with their movements. Instead let us envision it (the Pai Sho board) as a gentle river, and ourselves as stones along it's bend.
In this way the movements change, color and recreate us.

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She had always been aware of his movements….

How could she not be? His heavy intrusive steps echoed straight through her. He was loud, clumsy and awkward. He was constantly trying to sneak up on her, frequently throwing things at her head. He was a relentless disturbance to the natural rhythm of vast world around her

…. she decided that it annoyed her.

But then she became acutely aware of his movements…

That wasn't her fault either. Large, busy cities often made her "vision" blurry, riding Appa without a saddle was terrifying, and navigating that damn fishing village was out of the question. She had to hold on to someone and it had to be him. Twinkle Toes was easily distracted, prone to fly off at a moments notice to chase -anything actually. Sweetness was exasperatingly motherly, pointing out every little bump in the road at least three yards in advance. That left Sokka, so what if he told horrible jokes, so what if he forgot about her blindness and walked her into puddles, lampposts and the occasional wall. He didn't baby her and he didn't disappear. In the moments when she was most vulnerable he became a rock to guide her, he became solid ground to steady her. He became her eyes and she could see...him. She could feel his state of being by his pulse, she could tell the time of day by his heart beat

…. she found it uncomfortable being so comfortable with him.

Now she is poignantly if not agonizingly aware of his movements…

She can't blame herself for that can she? Absolutely not! He's the one who had the nerve to up and change without consulting her first. Since his training in the way of the sword he has been, well… different. Since she is stuck with him she has to adapt. She has to pay attention to ever subtle shift and every altered advancement. She notes that his steps have become wider, his stances deeper, his pace slow and decisive or quick, precise and confident. She knows that although he has lost his heaviness he is more solid than ever. His cadence, his rhythm washes over her without her permission.
Each movement flows like a river;
he surrounds and submerges her in a single step
she is in over her head
he is the closet thing she will get to swimming
and she's always been terrified of the water
She tries to block him out but she has grown so use to him that it is nearly impossible. That is why she knocks him over so much. That is why she causes bumps to appear in his path or rocks to rise up under the balls of his feet. His progression is painfully omni-present to her heightened senses. It is even worse when he practices his forms, when she can map the terrain through him as he dances with his blade. Her breath would involuntarily catch within her chest whenever she feels him complete the movements and extend his body fully, the tip of his sword puncturing air before him with his left leg sweeping back behind him. It is way past annoying, it is far beyond uncomfortable,it is insane. It is insane that in the space between her heartbeats he can make everything disappear. She feels him perfectly balanced, flowing with the natural rhythm of the tiny world around them both

….she discovers it to be unnerving,
because she likes it.