"Is he speaking? Do you understand him?"
"In a way. Grogu and I can feel each other's thoughts.
"Grogu?"
"Yes. That's his name."
"Grogu."
"He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Many Masters trained him over the years. At the end of the Clone Wars when the Empire rose to power, he was hidden. Someone took him from the Temple. Then his memory becomes... dark. He seemed lost. Alone.
I've only known one other being like this. A wise Jedi Master named Yoda. Can he still wield the Force?"
"You mean his powers?"
"The Force is what gives him his powers. It is an energy field created by all living things. To wield it takes a great deal of training and discipline."
[...]
"He's formed a strong attachment to you. I cannot train him."
"What? Why not? You've seen what he can do."
"His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears. His anger."
"All the more reason to train him."
"No. I've seen what such feeling can do to a fully trained Jedi Knight. To the best of us. I will not start this child down that path. Better let his abilities fade."
~
Curiously, every time I see this scene, I think of Kanan, actually.
How generations of Jedi did not realize that "attachment" was not the issue here.
Jealousy was.
Emotional greed.
Possession.
Being connected, being willing to attach, to be vulnerable, to be helped, to be reached, were not incompatible with being a Jedi.
They were, actually, the true meaning of it.
But, ultimately, I personally think that Ahsoka was wise in suggesting to let Grogu's abilities fade.
Was being a Jedi really more important or meaningful than growing with someone that loves you?
Having a full and happy life?
[In the photo: my new TeeTurtle adorable t-shirt, that I grabbed during their "May the 4th" big sale]
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