Kwai Chang rolled unto his back and stretched. The dark sky and chill morning air made the comfy, warm bed tempting to curl up and drift off to sleep again. Finishing the stretch, he sat up and got out of bed. Ignoring the cold floor, he rubbed his eyes and scratched his butt while heading to the bathroom.

Once finished with the daily morning needs, he went into his workout room. Various martial art weapons lined the walls of the room. Spears, swords, bos, sais, butterfly knives, other knives and weapons he was schooled in. Kwai Chang began to stretch his muscles for his morning exercises.

Finishing with his push-ups, Kwai Chang began his kung fu forms. Beginning with basic kicks and punches, he gradually moved into practicing the more advanced techniques. As the techniques became harder, he could feel his heart beating faster and sweat bead upon his forehead. The intensity of the kicks and arm moves had power to shatter bones and bricks. Kwai Chang could feel that power moving through him. It was a form of chi that one gained through proper body methodology. The feel of the kicks as the leg shot out. The feel of the arm and shoulder muscles as they struck at an imaginary target. The pure, empty-minded focus on the movements were what he loved best about kung fu. Kwai Chang loved how the art just flowed and let him simply move, no thoughts interrupting, nor body weakness giving-way.

Getting his head around, his back leg spun out into a perfect sidekick. Leg locked out, foot turned down, arms close to his body, protecting him from further attack, Kwai Chang pulled his leg back into a crane stance before setting the powerful leg down. Gently, he slid his feet together and placed his arms along his sides as he gave a short bow towards the alter at the one end of the room. The Shaolin slowly focused on returning his breathing back to normal and slowing his heart rate. He grimaced as he began to massage his lower back. Time was catching up with him, whether he admitted it or not. Arthritis ached in his hands, knees and back. He was not as flexible as he once was. Also, the length and intensity of his workouts were becoming shorter, further testament to confirm his autumn status.

Walking over to the door, he laughed, age hadn’t quite caught up with him yet. Whenever he sparred the younger students, including Peter, he always made them work extra hard, while he made it look easy. He doubted if any of them realized that he practiced every morning, and has done so since he could barely walk. Giving another short bow to the dojo room, he left and went to take a shower.

Feeling refreshed, and hungry, Kwai Chang set the water to boil for his morning tea. Glancing out of the french doors, the sun was slowly beginning its lazy journey across the sky. Kwai Chang finished chopping some fruit as the tea was just about to boil. Swiftly, he poured the kettle’s contents into a smaller pot with the green tea leaves. Letting the tea steep, Kwai Chang carried the breakfast dishes over to the table and finished watching the sun rise. It always humbled him, the grand possibilities of the day, completely unpredictable no matter how hard one tried to control it. And it all began with an extraordinary display of color.

The Shaolin priest finished his tea and rinsed the dishes in the sink. He would then meditate until mid-morning, or if someone came by. Then he would make his rounds to some of the people in the community. Peter said he was going to come by this afternoon. Together, they would practice their katas and sparring techniques. That was another aspect he loved about the martial arts, practicing with his son. The katas and forms they went over required concentration on the technique. Even though they hardly spoke about the problems of the day, Kwai Chang could see the stress his son endured through his profession eased somewhat. It let anger and aggression at the issues Peter had to deal with be released in a more controlled fashion. Plus, it was one level that both were able to agree upon, all arguments and divisions were dropped with the devotion to the art.

Kwai Chang sighed as he lit the last of the mediation candles. There was so much anger and aggression in both their lives. If it weren’t for the daily routine he practiced, even he would be overwhelmed. And that was one thing he feared, not being able to control the anger. He struggled with it on occasion, but he knew Peter had to deal with violent acts that could numb the soul on a daily basis. Saying a soft prayer to Kwan Yin, he hoped her gentleness and protection would aid Peter on his trials of the day.

Settling down in the lotus posture, Kwai Chang began his priestly mediation to find enlightenment in inner peace. Maybe he would find it one day, all he had to do was become one with the universe. Shanti, the peace which passeth human understanding. Shanti, love and peace is all he ever wanted. Shanti.