Carrying Momentum

That brings a long, gentle weekend with RiRi to a close. We didn’t do much, but we did enough. Resting together felt natural, unforced. The highlight was a few quiet hours wandering through a bamboo park, letting the world slow itself down around us.

Life with RiRi feels simple. And yet, this time I noticed something new. A sense of speed. As if she’s spinning just a little faster than before. Or perhaps we both are. An unspoken imbalance created not by friction, but by momentum.

Now it’s time to return to the school. I’m heading back carrying a sore shoulder and elbow — nothing dramatic, just the dull reminders of imperfect technique. I’m taking it as information rather than failure. Something to work with.

Staff form will have to wait. Instead, it looks like Bagua may take its place for now. Easier on the upper body, harder on the legs. Brutal in a different way. That feels acceptable. The work always finds a way.

In some ways, this shift doesn’t matter at all. I’ll take my time and keep training. What could look like a setback may well become a deeper opportunity — more attention on legs, structure, and rooting. There’s still a lot of work to be done there.

What lingers more than the training questions is something quieter.

If I noticed RiRi spinning faster, why didn’t I reach out to slow the space between us?
Was I holding back — or simply tired from carrying other people’s expectations for too long?

I don’t have an answer. Maybe it isn’t a question that resolves cleanly. Maybe it requires a different kind of listening altogether.

What I do sense is that the coming months will test something in me — not through force, but through patience.

For now, I’ll return to the work.
The rest can wait.