There was an old couple who were collectors of fine antique teapots and they traveled the world looking for rare and beautiful antique teapots. One day as they were on a journey through Japan searching for these treasures, after a long day with no luck, they stopped by an old Japanese country store to get a bit of refreshment to quench their thirst. When the old couple entered the dimly lit store, they noticed a tea pot on the very top shelf behind the counter. As they looked a little closer, much to their delight, there sat one of the most beautiful tea pots they had ever seen. They knew that they must have this rare beauty to add to their collection. As the old lady reached up with trembling hands to pick up the tea pot, much to her amazement the beautiful tea pot began to speak to her. She jumped back with a startled and bewildered look upon her face for her nor had her husband ever heard of a talking tea pot. But as they listened they realized that this tea pot had a very interesting story to tell. The tea pot said, you know, I was not always this beautiful and exquisite; in fact, I was quite the opposite of what you see. One day many years ago I was nothing more than a worthless lump of clay lying in a sea of mud with other lumps of clay and I thought I was quite happy with what I was and I had resigned myself to the fact that I would never amount to much at all. As I was wallowing their in my sea of mud, a pair of hands reached down and scooped me up. I protested loudly, saying leave me alone, I dont want to go, I want to just lay here and do nothing with myself. Then I heard a gentle but strong voice come from behind the hands telling me to calm down Im not finished with you yet. The hands began to mold and shape me and the more the hands worked with me the more I complained: Stop our hurting me, I dont like this, I like the way I was, I dont want to do this and on and on I went, only to hear the gentle voice firmly say quiet, Im not through with you yet. The hands continued to mold and shape me in spite of my continued complaining. Slowly I began to take on a new shape, I was no longer a lump of clay, no I was looking more and more like something of value. I began to get used to my new look and even a little proud of what I was becoming. Well just as I began to think the hand were through with me, they picked me up, placed me on a tray, opened a door to a kiln and slide me inside. Man you should of heard me complain now, I fussed its to hot in here, its no fun, let me out, Im tired, I want to quit, please leave me alone and just about the time I thought I was going to break and couldnt take it no more, the hands opened the door and took me out to let me cool down saying quiet little one Im not finished with you yet. I sat there on the tray cooling down and began to realize the fire in the kiln had actually made me a little stronger. Youll never guess what happened next, those hands reach down, picked me up and started to put paint all over me with a brush and once again I started complaining again, and once again the voice came from behind those hands saying shhhh, be quiet Im not finished with you yet. I sat there angry and frustrated, paint drying all over me, feeling this just cannot possibly get any worse. Well, I couldnt have been more wrong. Those hands picked me up and slid me back into that hot, old kiln again and this time the fire was even hotter than before and once again I let those complaints roll out again and thought I was going to explode before those hands came and opened up the door and pulled me out. This there was no voice to tell me to be quiet, and the hands did not put me back down where I was before, no the hands carried me over and sat me down on a shelf in front of a mirror, then I heard that gentle and strong voice say to me, open your eyes little one and see what you have become. I opened my eyes, looked in the mirror and much to my surprise, where a lump of a clay once sat there now stood a beautiful teapot. Then I heard the voice, filled with pride say, I am finished with you now. Much like the lump of clay, the students complain as the Master tries to mold and shape them in to a Martial Artist. My question for you is, are you the lump of clay or the teapot or maybe somewhere in between? Remember, just like the teapot our journey to becoming a martial artist is not always easy or fun yet, when the master is finally finished with you, the result will be beautiful!!

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