As long as I can remember, I am perceiving everything around me with wide open senses. Everything is just as impressive. This can be very strenuous, confusing, sometimes cumulating to panic – but also wonderful, giving me deep joy and gratefulness.
While practicing Kyudo, this empathic and perceiving state makes sense, seems to be useful. The clearness and strength in the form gives me space and helps to contain the perception – bringing body and mind together. To me, kyudo often times feels as an existential need, a necessary relief. Practicing Kyudo builds my self esteem and the chance to open up for what is now and real.
Being with the yumi feels archaic in a way; familiar with making fire, sleeping outside, being with the elements. It supports bringing mind and body together. Inside, I am experiencing dignity and strength, and my yumi opens up a chance to express this.
I very much enjoy the sounds of Kyudo, especially when everything is very quiet around.
While practicing in a group, sometimes there is a point of being completely together, connected. When that happens it almost feels as if it could be okay to die, because all what is important is experienced. I know this feeling since my childhood, from being in the wild, one with nature, and from hearing special music. Since my childhood I ‘know’ that I am not here for the first lifetime, and Kyudo is closely connected with this feeling of knowing.
So to me, Kyudo practice enables me to experience connectedness with the world and other beings, and strengthen s that connectedness.
With some people of the Kyudo family I spontaneously feel a deep heart connection. But even in Kyudo there can be competition, and often enough there is too little openness to share, which is painful and frustrating. However, there is an invaluable intimacy in going this path together, for different reasons and with up and downs.
Alexandra Lampe,
2014, written for a personal exchange.