After the Noise

Christmas came and went, as it always does. A lot of fanfare, very little substance.

It was a pleasant day, but it passed like a brief storm — a small disturbance that rattled things momentarily before disappearing without much trace. And now we move toward a new year, carrying hope, dreams, and often more old baggage than we care to admit.

For me, not much has changed. I’m still walking the same path, holding the same goals. And strangely, I’m grateful for that. Lately it’s taken real effort to stay focused and optimistic, but continuity feels grounding.

There is progress. It’s subtle now — harder to spot because the baseline has risen — but I know it’s there. Quiet improvement accumulating beneath the surface. Enough to keep me showing up. Day after day. Session after session.

It’s Friday. I’ll enjoy the day, train with a smile, and look forward to beginning a new form next week.

I’ve been thinking about energy — how one person’s presence can quietly shape your inner landscape. I’d like to believe it doesn’t work that way, but reflecting on my relationship with Stephanie, I can see a pattern clearly now.

Everything we touched together carried friction. Even simple things became complicated. Progress felt chaotic, constantly looping, rarely clean. Life with her wasn’t intentionally difficult — but it was rarely simple.

I don’t know how she experiences it. I suspect she sees herself as carefree, living in “flow.” But I’ve come to believe that when people need to label their lives that way, it often masks a deeper chaos — motion without direction, movement without learning.

I know now that I need distance from that energy. There’s no upside for me there. And while every separation brings its own complications, it also brings clarity. Each step away feels like a step closer to an ending that needs to happen.

Tai Chi and Kung Fu are unique in this way — first you learn the art, then the art slowly begins to teach you.

There are layers to practice, and today felt like a shift. Nothing dramatic. Just a sense that I may have stepped into a different level of understanding. The session itself was ordinary, but the experience wasn’t.

I was moving wider. Flowing more freely. Letting something unseen guide the work. It wasn’t clean — far from it — but it was alive. I could feel both progress and contentment existing at the same time.

I’m sore. I’m tired.
And I’m genuinely satisfied.

So I’ll keep going.
Trying honestly.
With everything I have.