Quiet Gains

This week, training has become a little routine — by design.

I am working my way toward Hong Kong, moving through the final stages of ankle recovery, and trying to reach the end of the week without collecting another injury. So far, it’s working.

I’ve returned to Tai Chi sword and have been making small but meaningful steps forward. I don’t know why this kind of progress still surprises me, but it does. Every step, every thrust, every transition improves in a way that quietly pulls my thoughts toward the six-month review that’s approaching.

I feel like I’m in a strange phase of development. Long stretches where nothing seems to change, followed by a few simple corrections that suddenly shift everything. From the outside, the changes would appear almost insignificant. But internally they feel large — like doors opening onto unfamiliar ground.

Last night I went to dinner with a German friend. It was an easy evening, the kind that passes without friction, which I always appreciate. Good food, a quiet drink, stories from the past, and loose thoughts about the future. Nothing heavy. Nothing demanding.

Just time shared, then released.

And that felt more than enough.