The Rusted Blade

Of all the self-images I’ve had over the years my favorite is the katana.

Whether I’m at my best—honed to a razor’s edge of wit, insight, and passion—or I’m faltering and dull the thought itself has a wonderful bias.

A blade is meant to cut. It has a purpose. If left alone and uncared for it will rust and become useless. A useless blade is an affront.

Luckily there are ways to whet the mind, and set the body in motion. If need be the sold may be smelted and reforged. Heated, pounded, folded into shape and made ready to cut: to separate the false from the true, the bad from the good.

I’ve been rusty and dull.

It’s happened before. It may happen again. What matters is there’s a craft that fixes this.