The Art of the Sword

I’m a collector.

In the past, I’ve collected hats, baseball cards, action figures, and shot glasses, for no other reason than they were neat looking.

I collected many types of things in turn, none of them holding my interest for long. It was in my senior year of high school that I discovered the thing that has held my interest ever since. It was that year that I bought my first sword.

We were on a school trip to Disneyworld, and we decided to spend the day at Medieval Times. For those of you who don’t know, Medieval Times is a place that has been made to look like a castle, and inside, you sit at these long tables on benches, where they serve you a huge chunk of meat on the bone, and all the servers are dressed in period costumes. And while you’re eating, they light an indoor arena, and have jousting competitions!

Well, having a little bit more money on hand than was good for me at the time, I stopped by the gift shop and purchased a replica longsword to take home with me. It wasn’t the best looking blade there, but it was in my price range, and I instantly knew I had to have it.

Since then, my collection has swollen to over a dozen swords, as well as the odd dagger or scythe. None of them are overly valuable, though some are certainly worth more than others. But they are all beautiful to me. There’s something in the sight of the steel leaving the sheath, the weight of a finely balanced blade. It is hard to describe what I feel when I hold a sword in my hands.

It stirs up some romantic part of my soul that wishes I lived in a simpler time. It is a part of me that wishes that there were no guns. Anyone can pick up a gun and shoot someone. It doesn’t take that much training or skill to fire a Colt .45. But to wield a sword takes long hours training, building your skills. It requires a certain level of athletic grace, a balance of power and speed, all controlled, all tightly disciplined. It is why if you watch a master at work, you see that wielding a blade is almost like a dance. It is an art.

There is something about the line a katana traces through the air as it swings, the rapid jabs of the epee in fencing, the crushing power of the greatsword as it crashes down upon helm and shield. The dance of steel is entrancing. I long to learn that dance, and make it’s steps my own.

Beyond that, there is a certain discipline that comes with learning a martial art, but especially one of the martial arts involving weapons. You have the physical training that tones and strengthens the body, and you work on controlling that power and speed, so that you aren’t simply flailing about wildly. Rather, every motion has a purpose, and it is controlled, preventing wasteful actions. That control carries over into other facets of life, as well.

Wouldn’t the world be better if the art of the sword was a way of life?