The newbie fighter asks a coach. The coach fills a pail with some water and some soap. She turns the tap off, straightens up, takes a deep inhale, lifts the bucket and sighs.
“Imagine being a field mouse. Really take the time to imagine it. You’re in the grass, foraging for seeds and berries and bugs. The sun is shining, so you are careful to stay as hidden as possible, but the field is great and you are small. Still, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. Then the feeling becomes unbearable. You sense something behind you, above you, upon you. You turn, and now you are aware that this is the last split second of your mouse life.
A bird of prey, its talons extended, pointing at you, and though they are deadly and will surely kill you, it’s not them that frighten you. No. It’s the eyes. The intense yellow stare registers in your brain for a split second before it’s all over, but the moment feels like an eternity. These are the eyes of a creature that knows it’s already won. You may have had a chance a minute ago, but that chance is now gone. You’re paralyzed in the victorious glare of this bird of prey, and there is no escape. In the next instance, its talon will pierce your little mouse heart.”
The newbie fighter gawks at the coach through all of this.
After a few moments they shrug it off, “So it’s just a visualization challenge. I’ll go into a duel with him imagining myself as a…whatever eats birds of prey. Then I won’t be intimidated.”
“A novel concept. But consider: You’ll have been this imaginary creature for a week. This person has had his entire life to perfect his visualization.”