Between Places

A simple Sunday as a tourist was exactly what I needed.

I walked for hours with a camera in hand, drifting through the busy streets of Hong Kong alongside millions of others doing much the same. There was something strangely calming about moving anonymously through the crowd, just observing, framing, noticing.

By sunset, I was exhausted in the best possible way — legs heavy, mind quiet — yet when I finally lay down, sleep refused to arrive. I tossed and turned into the early hours.

If I’m honest, I suspect the visa sits quietly behind it all. Not the paperwork itself, but the waiting. The lack of movement. The not knowing.

I really do hope today brings progress. I am ready to return to Wudang, to the rhythm of training, to the familiarity of routine. It’s not that I am unhappy here. It’s simply that I know where I feel most aligned.

There is little I can do to push the process forward. So for now, I will keep my head down, stay productive, and attempt to live simply inside a situation that feels unnecessarily complex.

Sometimes the practice isn’t movement.

Sometimes the practice is waiting.