The Test of Correction

Gonyaul shivered awake and tried to curl up into a ball on the floor inside the hut to preserve any remaining body heat. The underwhelming fire had gone out not long ago, while he had been dreaming, and all that remained was an undulating tendril of smoke tapering inversely from its extinguished source. He watched the movement of the smoke with a vacant expression, but with an intense gaze. He was momentarily distracted from his distressing predicament as he imagined the smoke as a personified individual desperately holding onto hope; the firepit below.

He was stiff and slow to start from the hard ground, the return to cold, and days of forced exhaustion and scarcity. Eventually he made his way to a seated position in order to begin his day with meditation as food, mindfulness as drink, and imagination as freedom. These would have to sustain him, for there was no indication when the tangible forms of these needs would be available again.

His hair was still ceremonial braided. He had been motionless while sleeping and it preserved its structure. Gonyaul was able to undo one braid strategically to use the two thick strands of long black hair to wrap around his eyes to simulate a Upparia meditation eye-wrap. His breathing techniques quickly took him into the depths of the void of thought.

While there he listened and could hear the opportunity in the midst of his current problems. He was experiencing a trial and it was something that he could choose to respond gratefully to, despite the unpleasantness of the tribulation. He would surrender his pride, and prepare his heart to embrace the singular word which whispered to him in the darkness. Correction.

Following the whispers he could hear the voices of his childhood friends and Elders encouraging him. "Don't try and cover your mistakes with false words. Rather correct your mistakes with examination. Listen to advice and accept correction, then in the end you will be wise." Came the voice of an Elder. "Be grateful for people in your life who pay enough attention to correct you." Giggled Qualestrel. Her words reminded him to be kind to his captors.

This was an opportunity for correction. His past failures and successes were like tutors in his mind, pointing out lessons to be learned moving forward. He could become better than he was yesterday, if indeed he could wisely discern these truths and then apply them moving forward. His Vauxian upbringing gave him the confidence that he could be grateful for what he was currently experiencing.

What was at stake? He believed that if he ignored the criticism, both from outside sources and his own internal voice, then he would end in poverty and disgrace. If he accepted correction; however, he will be able to achieve a strengthening of honor. He believed that correction was coming from a place of love. The flow of kagim had him swimming in a current of being disciplined. This meant that every detail of this experience was valuable and it would become profitable to his life. It would help him become more complete, competent and equipped.

Gonyaul's meditation would last for another hour before he would catch a ride on his quickening rhythmic breathing and return to physical animation. It was time well spent and it gave him enough motivation to once again stand and continue to slowly practice Vauxian martial arts.