This is my wood maul. There are many like, but this one is mine. It is my life (today). I must master it as I must master my life. Without me my wood maul is useless. Without my wood maul, I am useless (today). I must swing my wood maul true. I must strike accurately or pieces will not be split. I will. My wood maul and I know that what counts in war is not individual swings, the noise of contact, or the wood chips that fly. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit.
I actually didn’t do much of this growing up, my dad did it; and he was an artist when doing it. Its actually kind of fun because you can visually measure progress (like when mowing the lawn) and you get a fantastic workout, the only downside being some blisters on the hands.