Slowing Down

Another day accounted for, and now it’s time for a short break.

For the past few days I’ve been nursing a sore back. Nothing serious, just another reminder of distance — how far I’ve come, and how much still lies ahead. Injuries aren’t welcome, but they do have a way of pointing directly at what’s been overlooked.

This one has made something clear. I need a longer, slower warm-up if I want to keep progressing. Not a dramatic adjustment. Just more time at the beginning, letting the body arrive before asking anything of it.

It’s the kind of change that would probably suit a lot of people. Quiet, unremarkable, effective. I’ll keep it as part of my own practice for now and see what happens.

December is close, and Wudang has turned cold. The difference is the sun. Even in the cold, it shines, and that alone changes everything. Training in sunlight feels like a small gift — one that doesn’t ask to be acknowledged, only used.

Each day brings its own mix. Ease and resistance. Light and fatigue. And despite the repetition, despite doing largely the same thing every day, I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. A few years ago, that kind of life would have frightened me.

This place has given me things I don’t know how to explain. Things that don’t translate well into language. They aren’t possessions. They don’t belong to me.

They just show up.
And then they don’t.