Some of these movements I had been doing regularly for more than a year or two, and suddenly, to my tremendous frustration, they were gone, vanished from my brain. My body would stop as if my nerves and muscles had short-circuited. It was maddening. It was especially hard to bear for someone like me who has a pathetically low frustration level. It was even worse because when I stalled, Sensei, who was acting as my opponent in the kata, would simply stand there, expressionless, waiting for me to execute a technique I could not for the life of me produce."Shimatta zo!" I finally snapped in exasperation at my own stupidity.Senseis response was so fast it was completed, over, long before I realized it had started, in less time than it took me to complete the interjection. He snapped his wooden sword against mine and flicked it over, using the powerful force of his hips, in an action that took my weapon right out of my hands. My sword wheeled over in the air a few times and bounced off the ground. Simultaneously, I was left with the distinct sensation that my wrists had just been yanked off of my forearms."Anger is a luxury," he said quietly. "One that you cannot afford."
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