Day One

A new day. And in many ways, a new year.

The plans are simple.
This year I want to become quieter. To exist in a place few people notice, and even fewer bother to look for.

I don’t want to be part of a bigger game anymore. It brings me very little joy. I want my head down, my thoughts kept mostly to myself, expressed only through writing, while I give my time to the one thing that continues to feel honest.

Training.

This feels like a natural progression after the last few years. So today I recommit — not loudly, not publicly — but fully. I will move closer to what nourishes me and further away from what distracts me.

I want to train today with a clean mind. With a heart open enough to accept whatever shows up. But I also know how easy it is for enthusiasm to fade once the work begins. Words are cheap. Reality only arrives through repetition.

So the rule is simple: train with joy. No forcing. No struggle for the sake of struggle. Just presence. Just effort applied cleanly. Doing exactly what I want to be doing, because I want to be doing it.

I am 56 today. It feels like time to see if the clock can be persuaded to move differently.

Day one of this new year leaned heavier than expected. More resistance than flow. But every low point exposes something useful if you’re willing to look.

Today it was my hips. Tight. Stubborn. Familiar. They’ve always been this way, but now they’re actively in the way — especially in one stance.

Pu Bu.

There are positions I still can’t enter cleanly, and leaving them feels worse. It was frustrating enough today that I finally stopped negotiating with it. That single stance has become a problem I’m no longer willing to ignore.

The good news is simple: I know what needs to be done. Time. Patience. Consistent work. There’s no mystery there.

Aside from that, the day was solid. Cold air. Enough effort to sweat. Enough silence to stay steady.

That was enough for day one.

And now it knows I’m paying attention.