Imagine meeting a martial artist who has practiced a certain move, such as a kick kick, a million or more times.
It is powerful, more explosive and devastating than any other fast kick in the world.
By far, it is this artist’s best tool. As he dreams of enemy encounters, he imagines himself unleashing his devastating weapon with astonishing and conclusive results.
Hoping that his adversaries will be left open for just a fraction of a second, he orchestrates his fantasies to exploit this enormous force.
Every match he enters, real and imaginary, climaxes with his quick kick.
His master’s degree has become the stuff of legend, so much so that students seek him out. They also wish to have such a strong quick kick, but they also bring their problems in dealing with life, in general.
“I want to tell my girlfriend that I love her, but I don’t have the courage.”
“You’ll find an opening, just when I’m waiting for the right second to unleash my kick,” he advises.
“But I don’t want to kick her; I want to kiss her!”
“It’s the same, actually, kicking and kissing. It’s about waiting for the right moment and then putting your whole spirit in motion, can’t you see?”
“If you say so, teacher.”
These counseling sessions leave your henchmen feeling less than completely satisfied and, in some cases, much more frustrated and confused than when they first came to see you.
“It’s not all about quick kicks!” they mutter to themselves as they leave their sessions with him.
Upon catching one of those vocalizations, he replied:
“That’s where you go wrong! If you are the master of one thing, then you have knowledge of all things!”
To which the young student replied, “If that’s so, teacher, maybe I should have enrolled in kissing school, and then my kick kick would develop on its own!”