ately my life has been consumed by preparations for my next kung fu test, the first degree black belt (I currently hold a plain black belt, or level zero). I remember when I was testing the last time, and the people testing for their first degree had to do so much extra during the test that I was glad I wasn't one of them. Well, now I am.

Lately, after class, I've been starting the long drive home and just bursting into tears. This test for me brings up so many complicated emotions. My body feels rubbed raw, and its exhaustion means I'm too tired to contain things behind my usual wall of stoicism, so they come bubbling forth to the surface for expression and examination.

The first emotion is of longing, with which I have some intimacy. And all my longings are really longing for God, except this time it is the particular manifestation of God represented by what I am trying to become by passing this test. Did you get that?

The second emotion is fear that I won't pass muster, even though I know I will. It's bizarre, but it feels like giving birth to a raging lion. Not that I've given birth, but I've seen women starting the labor process wild with fear that they can't do it, even though they have no choice but to proceed forward.

What if I actually become my ideal of power? It's a very difficult position. Not even imagining my ideal, but being close enough to smell, touch, and taste becoming it. Will I die or implode? I think I know that I won't, but I've never done this before. All I know how to do is try. And sweat. And cry all the way home.