Shared Space

Today was cold, but enjoyable.

I’m studying my new form, Xing Yi, in a small group — something I’ve done a couple of times now. I think I like the smaller groups. You get more time with the coaches, more direct correction, more clarity. What I don’t love is the chatter that comes with it.

Maybe it’s because I don’t understand the language — that part is on me — but the constant talking feels like it burns time. And, as with all group activities, you can only move as fast as the slowest pace in the room. Normally I would find that frustrating, but today I didn’t mind too much. I’m feeling a little sore, a little flat, and that makes patience easier to find.

An old shoulder injury has made a quiet return. Nothing dramatic — just stiffness and a dull ache that reminds me it’s still there. So, once again, it’s time for self-directed rehab. The familiar cycle of strain, repair, adaptation. I had hoped this pattern might fade with time, but it’s becoming clear it will likely accompany me for the duration.

That’s alright.

I’m not the only one here who lives with pain most days. It isn’t talked about much, but you can see it if you look closely — in the way people rise from low stances, in the pauses between movements, in the eyes of those who’ve been here long enough to know what the work costs.

We work hard here. Hard enough to strip away who you thought you were. Hard enough to ask, quietly but repeatedly, whether you really want what you came for.