The Hidden Lesson
Today was an interesting day. Nothing remarkable happened on the surface. I am still injured, still very much a student, still carrying a long list of things that need work. Physically, the journey continues much as it has for months. Mentally, however, something shifted — and the shift arrived suddenly, like cold water on bare skin.
Yesterday was not a good day. My coach told me plainly that my Tai Chi technique still has fundamental issues that, if left unaddressed, will continue to hold me back. It wasn’t pleasant to hear, but it was honest. Necessary. And, as always, correct.
I did what I usually do. I reframed it. I told myself a story that softened the truth just enough to make it tolerable. Progress, patience, time — all the familiar language that allows you to move forward without really sitting in the discomfort.
But last night, lying in bed, something felt unresolved. Not painful — just incomplete. As if I had wrapped the lesson too quickly and moved on without actually learning anything.
That quiet discomfort stayed with me into the morning, and instead of pushing it away, I looked at it properly.
And the picture changed.
The issue my coach pointed out is not unique to me. It is common. Predictable. Something that many future students will experience. And suddenly, the problem stopped being a personal failure and became something else entirely — a teaching opportunity.
That realisation changed everything.
Instead of seeing the issue as a limitation, I began to see it as a gift — one that could add real value to the courses I plan to build. Not as a selling point. Not as some packaged solution. Just as something honest I can offer because I’ve lived it, struggled with it, and learned how to work through it.
And the best part? It’s something I can give freely.
Once that clicked, I was genuinely excited to understand the solution — not just for myself, but for what it could become. So in the afternoon session, I sat down with my coach and made a plan to address it properly.
It wasn’t complicated. It wasn’t mystical. It required attention, patience, and a return to the basics.
As it always does.
We stripped everything back, piece by piece, until the problem revealed itself. And once seen clearly, it was no longer overwhelming. Just another step. Another correction. Another layer of understanding earned the slow way.
The irony isn’t lost on me. It took a physical limitation to make me pause long enough to recognise how much mental and emotional progress has already been made.
Today reminded me that learning isn’t about eliminating problems — it’s about developing the ability to see them clearly and respond without collapsing into old patterns.
That alone made today a good day.