Vachon Imagined

My son takes Tae Kwon Do.

It teaches him how to fight, but more importantly, it teaches him when to fight.

Because fighting, like everything else in human experience, is an expression of life. There are moments when protecting the body, protecting others, and standing against harm are necessary.

We have also involved him in self-defense training because we want him to understand that his body is not separate from him. His body is an expression of the same life moving through him.

The beauty of disciplines like Tae Kwon Do, yoga, and other embodied practices is that they teach us to be in the body, not simply identified with the body.

They teach us to move with the flow of life, not to force the flow.

They teach awareness.

They teach presence.

We teach him, as do these disciplines, the meaning behind turning the other cheek.

This wisdom appears throughout many spiritual traditions. In Christianity, Jesus taught turning the other cheek as a way of refusing retaliation. In Buddhism, the teachings on compassion and non-hatred remind us that hatred does not end hatred. In Hindu traditions, ahimsa teaches nonviolence and acting without hatred. Jainism places profound emphasis on non-harm. Taoism teaches harmony through non-force rather than unnecessary resistance.

The message is not that we become passive.

It is that we learn the difference between fighting from pride and protecting from presence.

Because often when someone hurts our pride, we experience it as if our very being has been attacked.

Someone insults us.

Rejects us.

Dismisses us.

And the body responds as if we have been physically harmed because something within us has been struck.

Without presence, we react.

We retaliate.

We meet another person inside the same dream of consciousness and begin fighting against what is, without realizing we are fighting ourselves.

No one wins there.

The conflict simply continues, and we remain trapped at the same level of awareness, encountering that same consciousness in different forms.

Another relationship.

Another workplace.

Another person.

Another circumstance.

Because wherever we go, we carry the level of consciousness we have not yet transformed.

But when a person surrenders violence, retaliation, and even the fantasy of revenge, something powerful happens.

They become free.

They discover the strength of standing still.

The power of not being controlled by what arises.

The place where consciousness resides and returns to itself does not respond with pride.

It responds with gentleness.

Not weakness.

Gentleness.

A gentleness that can hold resilience.

A gentleness that can pursue justice.

A gentleness that can protect.

Because true strength does not need to prove itself.

It simply knows where it stands.