Waiting Without Ground

I have to admit that I’ve been in a strange mood since arriving in Hong Kong — one I haven’t felt in many months.

I think the feeling has risen simply because I don’t want to be here. Everything feels heavy, and each step stirs memories of a past I no longer want. I’m doing what I can to keep my head above water, yet an ache lingers, slowing me down, quietly pressing me to conform to a rhythm that makes little sense to me. And yet here I am, waiting for a visa so I can return to what I know, understand, and enjoy.

I know it shouldn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing. But the truth is, every moment spent away from what you love can feel like a moment you’ll never get back.

All I can do is wait, find what good I can in the situation, and keep practising — some version of not-doing.

I know this time will pass, and I know this experience serves as a reminder that the path I’m on is the right one for me. So, in the end, I should be thankful for this strange little week. I should make the most of it. But if I’m honest, I’m mostly just moving through it — one day at a time.

Another day has passed without any word on the visa. Waiting is dull, and patience has never been a strength of mine. Still, there’s nothing else to do but wait. Maybe this is a lesson in patience that I still need to learn.

The hotel has added its own layer to the experience. I didn’t spend much by Hong Kong standards, so my expectations were modest. It’s small and functional, but it’s also the coldest room I think I’ve ever stayed in. No heating. Which makes spending time there a non-option.

So once again, I found myself heading to the park for Tai Chi. A way to calm the mind and loosen the body. I know there’s far more to see and do here, but right now I feel adrift — a long way from centre.

The afternoon session was, at best, sloppy. But it felt grounded, and it felt necessary. My mind wandered in every direction. I kept drawing it back gently, trying to find a flow that has felt absent lately.

I didn’t find it.

But I tried. And today, that felt like enough.

I hope tomorrow will be better. But even if it isn’t, I know I have this strange little park in the middle of the city, and a simple practice that asks very little of me.

That feels like enough to keep moving forward — quietly — in the work of getting to know myself a little better.