I once asked Paejon.
‘How many forms are there?’
How many forms does Tuapacheonmu have?
‘If you insist on counting, there are seven for now… but who knows.’
Whenever I said that, Paejon would react like it wasn’t all that important.
‘How many forms exist isn’t very important to me.’
‘Then what is?’
Was the number of forms—of the techniques that make up a martial art—really not important?
It was something I couldn’t understand. All the more so for those who study the martial path.
But to my question, Paejon answered calmly.
‘Completeness. And satisfaction.’
‘…Sir?’
‘If trimming the forms down raises the completeness, then that’s correct. If adding more makes it better, that’s also correct. And if, after doing so, you feel a sense of satisfaction—then I consider the martial art complete.’
It was a very simple logic.
If adding makes it worse, erase. If erasing makes it worse, add.
He said that’s how a martial art is completed.
‘…So, you’ll keep adding more if you feel like it?’
‘I should.’
‘And when are you…