A couple years ago I was living in an apartment on a farm. The owners had some peacocks who would wander around the property, eating bugs and doing peacock things. At night they would fly up into a tree to sleep, safe from predators.

There was a week during the winter when we had especially harsh weather. The sun was hiding, the wind was blowing, it was cold, and freezing rain and sleet were plentiful. Everything was covered in a layer of ice, including the peacocks.

The male peacock, due to his abundance of feathers, had it the worst. For days I would pass him, crouched in a corner under an awning, looking for refuge from the elements with minimal success. Weighed down by his suit of ice, he looked far from comfortable. Because of the weight of the ice he was unable to fly and had to sleep on the ground, exposed and vulnerable. Each time I saw him I wished there was something I could do to end what looked like pure misery.

When I saw him again, after the ice stopped falling and the sun came out, he looked reborn. He was standing on a wooden fence bathing in the sun’s rays. His colors had never been so vibrant. No longer huddled in a corner, he looked larger than ever before and he displayed what I can only imagine is perfect peacock posture. He had weathered the storm and emerged stronger and more beautiful for it.

In a lot of ways, I’ve usually avoided challenging myself. For that reason I’m sometimes surprised that I’ve continued to practice AikidoThe word "Aikido" is made up of three japanese characters: ai - harmony, ki - spirit, mind, or universal energy, do - the way. Thus Aikido is "the way of harmony with universal energy.". It seems like the kind of thing that I would have walked away from long ago. My practice is regularly difficult, uncomfortable, and frustrating, both mentally and physically. Often I feel like I’m not cut out for it.

Fortunately, at Bucks County Aikido I’ve found both an art and a community that make me want to keep coming to practice and challenging myself. Even when I feel like I’m not making any progress and I’m frustrated, I never leave class wishing I hadn’t come.

The process may be slow, but during any class one small element of a particular technique might suddenly make more sense, and in that instant it was worth all the frustration and discomfort. Maybe I’ve started to learn that those little victories are born directly from the struggle it takes to achieve them. That doesn’t mean I’ll be less frustrated in the future, but knowing it helps me to endure the more difficult times.

Those little victories gradually add up to learning more about Aikido and about myself, one small step at a time. I find myself not giving as much thought to where I have to move my feet. My body seems a little more relaxed then it was when I started. I notice myself getting up off the mat faster then I used to, even though I’ll be picking myself right back up in about seven seconds.

Coming to Aikido class is far from the ordeal that the peacock had to go through, but my time here so far has made me feel stronger as a person and capable of enduring more than I thought I could. Early on, I questioned my own capability to stick around and train this way, to continue to push myself night after night, week after week. I find that I question myself less these days. I’ve proven to myself that I can do this, and that might be my biggest victory so far. Not so long ago I might have run from this challenge, but now I find myself embracing it. Maybe someday I’ll be as strong and beautiful as that peacock was after the sun came out.