Luckiest Man Alive

 319.

"This reminds me of a training technique we used to use," she says, stacking a slice of tomato atop a small triangle of fresh mozzarella. I watch closely to gauge her understanding of the caprese trinity as she deftly maneuvers a ribbon of sweet basil to the apex of the famous Italian starter.
 
"As in eat to win?" I ask, using a thick slice of the Como loaf as an assistant in the loading up of my own sample.

"Ha, no, I feel so relaxed and calm, that it reminds me of the muscle memory sensation of breathing into the relaxation of the second level, you know, when you feel that next layer, deeper, more beneficial and holistic, available only when the mind lets go of all its petty earthly business and self-imposed supervision responsibilities. We practiced getting there in a one breath cycle."

"When you say we to whom do you specifically refer?"

"Our Academy martial arts group. We explored several variations of training, taking the best of the best, techniques from several forms to fit our specific requirements. Eating, breathing, resting, recovering, thought structure, complex and abstract response. The relaxation technique was always something I looked forward to after a particularly gnarly session, like yoga shavassna, …or vanilla ice cream."  

"Work, rest, recover, repeat." I comment, testing the aroma from the kitchen to gauge completion time of the baking main entry.

"Sure. Anything of value is going to require a similar structure and dedication, don't you agree?" she asks already knowing the answer but hoping for a response that only forty years of hands-on, hand-to-hand, face to face experience can provide.

"My teacher was fond of saying that the most important things in life are 'caught' and not 'taught', meaning that, as he was also known to suggest, that the best teacher is your last mistake." I leave this for consideration and push back from the two-person table to dish up the penne putanseca with eggplant. Mustang sees that I am struggling with the one-and-a half hands preparation and immediately comes to my aid, offering her assistance.

"Are you getting any more of the tingling sensations in your arms?"

"It's interesting," I answer, not entirely wanting to talk about it as we prepare for our meal, but obliging nonetheless, "the pins and needles seem to pop up when under extreme stress, when its do-or-die, it is something I don't quite understand, but…"

"… exactly, after dinner, with your kind permission, I'd like to try a technique I am hoping will prove effective in stimulating the damaged nerves in your back, one of the medical combinations we also used, hybrid of Oriental and Occidental theory."

"Is it called desert?"

"Only metaphorically."

The pasta is as perfect as the wine and topped only by the exquisite company. Despite my injuries and physical limitations, I look across the table and consider myself to be the luckiest man alive.