Another ridiculously productive night in the yoga room at the gym.
Another achy and anxious Saturday morning… anticipating the pain of the drills on Friday’s bruised muscles, anticipating the effect of Sifu’s mood on my own.
Another winter storm on the way to interrupt my new routine. Mother Nature couldn’t care less about my medical appointments, tournament preparation, and the driving obstacles she throws in the way of people needing to get where they have to be.
At this point, all of winter feels personal. But it will leave when it’s ready and do what it wants to do in the meantime. That’s a simple truth about anything I can’t control. And I can’t control anything but me.
I keep remembering a phone call with an old friend, the one whose children were black belts in tae kwon do before they were in high school, the one whose footsteps I followed in and enrolled my family in the same martial arts school.
“I’m not a very nice person,” she said on a day so long ago I can’t remember what made her feel that way. I do remember disagreeing. “Really, I’m not.” She wouldn’t take no for an answer.
At the time, she was a few years younger than I am right now, and I remember wondering if one’s forties brought on a previously unknown level of self-criticism. I’ve concluded that it does, merely as a result of increased self-reflection. At least that’s true for me.
Today’s mission: do my best – the best in class with my body, the best with people in my mind. No one’s mood or actions ever have to affect mine. Because I have control of me. Really, I do.