Just Passing Through

The weekend is over, and it always seems to pass rather quickly — too quickly for tired souls doing their best in the depths of winter.

The weekend was, without doubt, the coldest I have been in all the time I have spent here. But the truth is that I had a lovely weekend spending time with a friend. Together we achieved very little, and somehow that felt like enough. I would love to have more energy on the weekends, but that just never seems to be the case.

So, with a mildly rested body, it is back to work as we dive deeper into Xing Yi — a new form that is starting to take shape but still requires thought to complete.

None of this is unusual. Time has taught me that every form is a language that needs to be learned, practised, and slowly understood. They feel like living, breathing organisms — each with its own temperament, its own demands, its own way of resisting before yielding.

Flow, in this sense, is not something you stumble into. It is not found by accident or intention alone. It is earned through repetition, correction, and quiet persistence. A place reached only after the body stops arguing and the mind finally listens.

You never own a form. It passes through you for a while, shaped by your limitations and your effort, before moving on. You are just another student in a long line, another pair of hands doing their best to honour something older than themselves.

That feels right.
To learn it.
To feel it.
And then to let it go.