Lag

There are days at the school when it feels like I’ve slipped backward rather than moved ahead. Yesterday was one of those days. I can’t fully explain it, though I suspect it has more to do with how my body feels than anything else.

It was a hard day. Pain sat everywhere. Two new movements, in two different forms, both asking more than I felt ready to give. Part of me kept thinking they should feel easier by now.

Which is strange, when I stop and look at it properly.

Everything I’m learning is still new. Every movement is a fresh physical and mental demand — something to understand, remember, coordinate, and repeat until it settles into the body. Until then, clumsy is the only honest stage.

Yesterday was heavy across the board.

Still, I showed up. I stayed with it. I didn’t let the discomfort push me out of the room. It rattled my confidence and made me feel like a wobbly toddler learning to walk, but I learned something all the same. And today, I get another attempt.

That’s really all this asks for — to try again until the movements feel less foreign, until familiarity begins to replace force.

By the end of the day, it had turned out better than I expected. Which leaves me wondering why I expected otherwise in the first place.

That question only ever shows itself when I pause long enough to notice it.

Training here — living this way — has sharpened my awareness of my own thinking. The physical changes are obvious, but the quieter mental shifts feel just as significant. I’m noticing patterns sooner. Letting some of them pass.

Nothing dramatic has resolved.
But things are moving.