The Plan Remains The Same

I saw the surgeon yesterday.  Ultimately the decision to have, or not have surgery, is up to me.  But I honestly didn't get the impression that the surgeon felt I was a good candidate.  What I heard was that the benefits of surgery, versus the difficulty of the process, would not be very much gained.  She is, of course, basing this on me specifically and comparing it to what I am still doing right now.  If I were completely off the mats, she'd likely be thinking differently.  But she seems to think that I have done quite well in continuing my training.  She admitted she wasn't familiar with Kung Fu, but was pleased to hear that Kung Fu carries on, injury or not. Grading, teaching, training...everything still moves forward.  No matter what, my jumping days are over.  Even with a new knee, she said that if I kept that up, I'd just tear the new one.  Especially because of my personal physical structure.  I have loose knees and my flat feet turn them inwards naturally.  So this injury was only a matter of time.  The only thing I might gain from surgery is the pivoting on the damaged leg.  However, she didn't seem to think that was off the table altogether anyways.  She thinks that between a good knee brace and rehab work, I might be able to improve to a degree that I'm happy with.  All of this work will still be needed if I go surgery route...PLUS the additional surgery, recovery, etc.  I just didn't get the impression that she felt surgery would give me much more than I could get with some hard work on my own.  Running, kicking, sparring, etc...she seemed to think these are all possible again without surgery.

Having said all that, I also do think they present surgery in such a way that it really makes you think about it.  The recovery will be difficult.  Both physically and mentally.  There is a high risk of depression during this period.  Her opinion was that this recovery would be much longer and much more difficult than my foot surgery.  For my foot they said a year before I'd be back to 100%.  It was more like 2 years.  For this one they are saying 18 months...which may mean alot longer.  And I remember the recovery with my foot being difficult.  I've said over and over that unless my other foot REALLY started causing pain...there's no way I'd do it again.

Because I just picked my brace up on Monday, she has recommended that I use it for a while and see what more I am able to do.  She even wants me to try some "light" pivoting on that knee, and some kicking with impact....very light to start.  I'm not going to do this here in the next month.  Possibly not even leading up to the banquet.  I don't want to risk making anything worse between now and then.

And now on to the injury that is actually causing me significant pain and discomfort at the moment.  My shoulder.  It still hasn't healed.  But honestly, how can it with everything I'm trying to do.  I did go see the doctor.  He's not concerned about a tear at this point.  Although he also wasn't concerned about a tear with my knee and we know how that's turned out.  He said it can take upward of 3 months for it to be feeling better.  I'm at about 2 right now.  But of course, that estimation is assuming that I am resting it.  I'm not supposed to be doing anything shoulder related, other than my exercises.  But that's just impossible and I don't really see it as an option right now.  I am trying to alleviate as much as I can (I've even modified my staff form and removed a couple of the most aggravating articulations) but it's just constantly getting re-tweaked...often with just simple day to day activities.

Obviously the timing of all this could be better.  I've done pretty well managing it to this point.  But as I near grading it's starting to weigh on me mentally.  Rationally, I know there is still alot of Kung Fu I am doing, and alot I will be asked to present.  But when it comes to the fitness test specifically, I'm just feeling so useless.  And to walk out of grading day with a big fat 0 on that part feels...for lack of a better descriptor....really shitty.  I've worked really hard to get here, and at the end of the day I want to feel like I've earned it.  I have no doubt that the Master Instructors will challenge me appropriately, regardless of my injuries.  I suppose that's always the case with Kung Fu though.  There's always some sort of challenge that we're facing.  I just wish I was feeling a little more confident in what I'm actually doing right now.  And I know I'm probably being harder on myself than I need to be.  If one of my students, or fellow training mates, were in this position, I'd be telling them to focus on what they CAN do, rather than everything they can't.  But that's advice that's easier to give than to take.  I guess what I'm really struggling with is accepting how different grading is going to look than I had imagined, and whether I'll be able to feel good about what I do manage to put forward.   

I don't really know where I'm going with all of this.  I woke up with some serious shoulder pain,  so maybe I'm just feeling extra frustrated today.  For now I'll just keep doing what I've been doing and hope that I can find a way to be satisfied with that.  My plan all along, injured or not, was to put everything out on the table for my grading...whether that was a whole year, or a single day.  And that hasn't changed.

One After Another

This past week was not ideal in terms of my training. In addition to the little moments here and there, as well as my classes, I've been trying to fit in three longer training sessions each week (1 1/2–2 hours each). This week, two of those sessions were kiboshed.

To make up for some of it, I decided to do some higher-intensity training last night. I ran through all of my forms, one after the other, trying to limit the time between them to about a minute, just enough to settle myself and catch my breath.

• Da Mu Hsing 1–5
• 18 Temple Motions x 2
• Stick
• Lao Gar 1–3
• Broadsword
• Long 1–2
• Butterfly Swords
• Hung 1–2
• Nunchuks
• Personal Staff Form
• Spear

Although I mostly wanted to really sweat, I also wanted to challenge myself to stay mentally focused, especially when my brain started telling me to hurry up and just get through it because I was getting tired.

And for the most part, I felt I was able to do that.

I'm sure my technique started to wane as fatigue set in. But what I was proud of was my ability to keep bringing myself back into the moment. To remind myself to get deeper into my horse stance, or to really fire that punch. It may not have been to the same level as when I'm fresh, but I was still aware enough to recognize what I needed to do and make the effort to do it, even when my legs were burning or my arms were fatigued.

I also really tried to manage my breathing, which is something I've struggled with for a long time. Sure, I was pretty gassed between forms and needed that time to settle my breathing. But the fact that I can now even think about my breathing while performing my forms, and have some ability to keep it from getting completely out of control, is a big improvement.

I think that's what I took away from this session more than anything. I know I can push myself physically. But being able to stay mentally present, recognize when things are starting to slip, and make a conscious effort to correct them, even when I'm exhausted, feels like a different kind of progress.

I'll definitely do this again.

The Sparks

As I get closer to grading day, I've still got several things that need to be solidified and tightened up. Applications, personal demo, and of course, always forms work to be done.

I'm trying to make sure things don't (or haven't already) fallen off the rails, while also trying not to suddenly veer off in a completely different direction.

I think what I've been doing for the past seven years has served me well to this point. And so suddenly questioning everything I don't know, or trying to "cram" everything I might have missed, would probably do more harm than good.

Having said that, I do find myself wondering, "Will we be required to do this? Or that?" And sometimes these are things I haven't thought about in a long while. But truthfully, this has always been my way. Something will spark in my mind....and I tend to follow it.

I'm not really worried about these things in terms of suddenly feeling like I NEED to have them mastered. The amount of content we learn is vast, and I honestly think it would be impossible for anyone to be able to recall all of it, all the time. But revisiting some of these things is actually adding a bit of excitement to grading day itself, and also to my training.

These little sparks have always been an important part of how I learn. They tend to come up during times of frustration or stagnation. Often when I've been so hyper focused on something that it's starting to become tedious. And then something catches my interest, and off I go.

I've come to realize that these little detours aren't necessarily distractions. They give me a boost in motivation and engagement. A bit of a respite, so to speak. A chance to reset and refresh both my mind and body. And when I return to whatever I was originally working on, I often see it in a fresh light again.

In a way, I think these sparks are what have always helped me tie everything together.

So someone might look at what I'm doing and think, "Why is she focusing on THAT when she has all these other, more important things to be working on?"

Well....because this has always been my way.  And it's part of how I've gotten to where I am.

I think what I'm starting to realize is that I need to trust that. Trust the process that's brought me this far. And maybe, more importantly, trust myself a little more. Of course I want to be prepared for grading. I want to do well, and I want to demonstrate that I've earned my black belt. And there are definitely some priorities that need my attention between now and then.

But I don't think I need to suddenly become a different kind of student to get there.

Blinders

I wanted to share a story that relates a little bit to the last Chuanshou class, and how students and instructors communicate.

I had an interesting, and kinda cool, experience with one of my students.

I would describe him as someone who likes to joke around, often not taking things too seriously. Sometimes being a bit confrontational or challenging if he thinks what we're doing is "pointless". The other day, we were working on a certain part in Lao Gar, and he commented, "I don't get this. Why would I ever do this if someone was attacking me?". His tone was somewhat snarky.

And I think for the first time, I looked past the tone, and was actually excited by his question.  My group ended up veering off a bit and digging into this. 

Form versus application...What other things, besides specific strikes, blocks, kicks....are we learning and getting from our forms?

It was quite exciting.  But it was also an eye-opener for me.

I think sometimes, not just as students, but also as instructors, we can put our blinders on. If someone is consistently disruptive, it becomes harder and harder to really "hear" them. Or maybe I should say, it can be hard to look past how something is being said, and recognize that there might actually be something worth exploring....even if the comment was intended to get a laugh or be a little challenging.

I could see by the end that his attitude had shifted. He seemed even proud that his comment had influenced the lesson like it did.

And that got me thinking.

His question wasn't necessarily any different from questions he's asked before. But my response to it was. I think I had become so accustomed to expecting a certain attitude from him that I was sometimes responding to the attitude before I was even considering what he was saying.

This time, I didn't.

And because of that, we ended up having a really valuable discussion. One that might never have happened if I'd simply dismissed his comment as another attempt to be disruptive.

I don't know if this experience will change how he approaches future classes. But I do know that it has changed something in how I see him. And maybe that's just as important.

White Rabbit

I had a really great training day not long ago.

I was working through my forms, in full, and everything just felt right.

All the way through, I felt completely in control...of my breathing, my pace, and how I was phrasing the form. I was consciously choosing certain spots to slow down or speed up, but without sacrificing my flow. I was aware of everything, but not at all distracted. My intent felt clear, and I was completing every movement.

At the end, I didn't find myself completely gassed and out of breath. I was definitely fatigued, but not in the way I normally feel when I go 100%.

And I really felt like I gave 100%...but it was a completely different result than I'm accustomed to.

I carried on to Lao Gar and felt the same thing.

Like I was in complete control, without having to try so hard.

I'm sure I'm going to end up chasing that feeling now, because I know it's possible. At the same time, I realize it could become a bit of a white rabbit...the harder I try to recreate it, the more elusive it may become.

Maybe some of the things I've been working on are finally starting to stick. Maybe I'd gotten a great sleep and had been eating well. Maybe the stars were aligned.

Regardless, it was a really cool experience, and one I hope to have again

Stances

I've been working a lot on my stances recently. Not just in a static sense, but also in how I transition into them to best support my strikes, blocks, kicks, and other techniques.

Horse stance. Cat stance. Open X. Narrow kneel.

They all seem to be slightly off, both in alignment and stability.

As I've been trying to correct them, I've found myself wondering why they suddenly all seem out of whack at the same time.

Perhaps I've advanced enough that I'm only now beginning to recognize these little idiosyncrasies. Maybe my stances were adequate for where I was before, but I've reached a point where they need further refinement to keep pace with the rest of my development.

Or perhaps my knee injury is affecting me more than I realized. Maybe I've been making small, subconscious adjustments to avoid pain, discomfort, or further injury. Over time, those adjustments may have become my new normal, even if they aren't quite right.

Either way, they need work.

If it's time to refine my technique, great. If it's time to recognize the compensations I've developed and start making deliberate decisions about what works best with my injury, that's fine too.

My goal will be the same...to develop stances that are stable and capable of supporting whatever technique I'm applying.

And an update.  I finally have a followup appointment to go see the Sports Medicine Dr about my MRI results.

The Truth, The Whole Truth, And Nothing But The Truth

I've got a lot going on at the moment. All good things. But still, sometimes it can be a lot to sift through. And sometimes it feels like even though I'm "sifting," I'm somehow just sifting everything straight back onto the same pile.

The advice I got was to stop focusing so hard on the specific "thing" and instead figure out the underlying core lesson...the "universal truth" it belongs to.

If I can take a piece of feedback and categorize it into one of those truths (or maybe discover that it needs a whole new category I haven't found yet!), it suddenly seems much more manageable. More importantly, the lesson becomes something I can apply elsewhere.  Instead of fixing one single piece of feedback, maybe I can fix a whole collection of things across the board.

I've been using this strategy with some feedback I got in Tai Chi.

In our last class, I was having trouble with a particular transition, and Sifu reminded me about "tucking in" or "sitting on my highchair."  I had to apologize in that moment because I know she's told me this before...and I promised she'd only have to tell me about 4 billion more times.

Using that as my focus, I definitely felt smoother through my transitions and more grounded.  I also felt some pressure alleviated in my knee.  So something was definitely working and I wanted to take it further.

I started asking myself, how does this translate to my Lu Ping An?  I tried to "tuck in" during my bow stance and cat stance. And to a degree, I could play with it, but it didn't really translate.  Then I started questioning everything.

Why does it work there and not here?

Should I be doing it this way? Or that way?

Which way was right?

And there really was no answer, because I was asking the wrong questions.  I was being too literal and too specific.

Once I challenged myself, with some prompting, to ask why Sifu had given me that advice in the first place, things started to make more sense.

What core lesson was she trying to emphasize?

What was she trying to get me to see?

Those questions actually had some real answers.

It's not a matter of taking one piece of feedback and translating it directly and exactly into every other area of my Kung Fu.

It's about finding the lesson inside the feedback.  Figuring out which "truth" it belongs to, and then applying that truth appropriately to whatever I'm doing.

Btw...the lesson I landed on was to stay grounded and maintain my skeletal alignment throughout.  In 10 years I'll probably realize there was even more to it. But for now, this is where I've landed.  And that's a much easier lesson to apply across my Kung Fu than trying to literally "tuck in" everywhere. lol

And a big thank you to Sihing Ward for giving me a poke. You were right — I hadn't posted last week. I had written another entry but kept it private, so it felt like I had blogged...when I actually hadn't.  So thank you again! I already had this one started, so thankfully I was able to get it up quickly.

Now I Know

Just a brief update. 

I had my MRI yesterday.  Results are already back in MyChart.

ACL has a complete tear.

The expectation was that we were dealing with a partial, so somewhat worse than expected.

I don't know what this means yet, since I haven't met with the doc yet.

In the interim I will keep doing what I'm doing.  

Camping

Out on my annual camping trip with a group of friends.  We spent the day hiking and playing games.  I always enjoy being out in nature. For whatever reason, things just slow down and I’m able to really be present.  The hiccups that will often upset a day just don’t seem to be as significant out here.

On another note, I hope everyone had a great day at the parade today!!

Stop Playing Around

I have a confession.  I still don't feel all that connected to my stick form.  

For one, I think alot of my focus and excitement has been surrounding our fight choreography.

And for two, I have kept myself in "development" this whole time.  There are a few parts where I just keep playing, looking for different/better ways.  I haven't been successful, mind you....but by not fully committing, I haven't really given these spots the attention they need to evolve and get better.

This is leaving me feeling disconnected from my form, while also lacking trust.  Not only do I feel this way...but it's also pretty obvious from an outside visual perspective as well.

Moving forward I've decided I'm just going to embrace what I have and go for it.  Fully commit.

We'll see what kind of shift I can make over the next bit.

Nothing To See Here!!!

I had a bit of an "enlightening" moment a few weeks back in Tai Chi.

It dawned on me while moving through the form that I don't consciously look before I move toward or strike the next target.  This is something we always try to do in our Traditional Kung Fu, so I asked if that same intent should still be there in Tai Chi.

The short and simple answer is yes, we still need to acquire our target.

The difference is that, because everything is moving so much slower, our eyes naturally move with the rest of the body.  There's no obvious "turn your head and look" moment.

BUUUUUUT...

That question took us down a little rabbit hole, and over and above the original question, something Sifu said has really stuck with me.

"I'm looking at nothing, but I'm seeing everything."

That one sentence has inspired me to look much deeper into what I'm actually doing with my eyes during forms.

As I'm moving through Tai Chi, I'm experimenting with not focusing my eyes on any one thing.  Instead, I'm trying to expand my field of vision as much as possible.  I'm seeing how much I can actually perceive if I don't lock onto a single target.

It's been quite eye-opening.  😉😜

I can definitely see a lot more around me when I remove that specific focus.

Out of curiosity, I tried the same thing while looking downward.  I think I now understand one reason (not the reason, but a reason) we're always told to keep our eyes up.  The moment I try to expand my vision while looking down, it's instantly limited by the ground.  My awareness just isn't the same.

Anyways, I'm continuing to play with this.

It's been much harder to apply in our traditional forms because of the increase in speed. It's surprisingly difficult not to focus on something.  And when I say that, I don't mean I was finding something tangible in the room to focus on.  I mean I was focusing on an imaginary opponent.

What I'm trying to do now is a little different.

I'm trying to acquire that target while it's still on the edge of my field of vision before I move.  Then, as I transition, the target naturally comes into the centre of my vision, but without collapsing everything else.  I still want to see the target clearly while keeping my awareness expanded enough to pick up any other possible threats around it.

This is really difficult to put into words, and I'm not even sure I'm explaining it properly.

But it feels different.

I'll keep playing with it, but it honestly feels like I'm onto something that could be very advantageous.

Numbers - Aug 1

Just some numbers this week.  I lost track of time and found myself and the end of the wire.  I'm not super proud of my numbers at the moment.  But I will keep at it.

Avery

Over the years, I've found myself sharing parts of my life publicly that many people would choose to keep private.  I'm not entirely sure why, and I don't think one way is more "right" than the other.  It's never about sympathy or wanting others to fix anything.  I have simply come to believe there's value in being open and honest and raw about the journey, especially the most difficult parts.  This is where I am right now.

I've written about Avery in the past. She's been a big part of my life... even with my Kung Fu and chi work.  This is not a blog I want to write, but I also feel I need to. 

She came to me 15 years ago during a really difficult time.  I had a miscarriage, and although I didn't realize it at the time, I was pretty depressed afterward.  Avery was the one who pulled me back.

We had fostered for SCARS for a couple of years by that point and had several dogs pass through our home, as well as met many, many more at various events.  We always said we wouldn't adopt because that meant we wouldn't be able to foster anymore.  But then, when I was at an adoption event for our current foster, I saw Avery and, without hesitation, she came home with me.

I've always described her as my soul mate.  We knew each other from the beginning.  We had a connection... which is so hard to explain... but so simple and obvious to me.

Her physical health started to fail a few years ago.  We've done anything and everything we could, and she always seemed to pull through.  But over the last couple of weeks, it became apparent that things were getting worse.  She was having a much harder time getting up and lying down.  She was pacing and panting, I believe because she was becoming so uncomfortable she didn't know what else to do.  She came to me often, obviously anxious, reaching out for help and comfort.  And there was nothing I could do for her.

We had gone to the vet and had increased her pain medication as much as we could.  In the back of my mind, I was worried and scared.  But I hoped it would pass.

She eventually started to stumble and lose most of her control, and just the way she walked and stood had changed.  And I knew this wasn't going to pass.

Thursday night, without even really speaking about it, Dan and I both knew it was her time.  And after two weeks of her pacing, restlessness, and being unable to settle down or be comfortable, once the decision had been made, she lay down and slept.  The whole house suddenly seemed peaceful and calm.  It was as if she had finally gotten the message across and was able to rest.

I stayed up with her that whole night.  She slept, and I lay beside her, knowing we didn't have much more time together.

I called in the morning to make arrangements for that afternoon.  We spent most of the day just sitting quietly or going for some last walks together.  And, of course, sitting under her favourite tree where she'd always get so sappy that I thought for sure the vet would think she was neglected.

It really was a perfect day.

When it neared the time to go, and I was getting a few things ready, she stood up, tail wagging, and went to the van.  She even tried to get in when I was closing the door, looking at me, confused.  Dan told me later that she stood there beside the van waiting for me to come back and even nudged the door a couple of times.  It was like she knew.  And she was ready, eager even, to get going.

The entire ride there, and leading right up to the final goodbye, she had her smiling face on... one we knew well, but hadn't seen in some time.  She was ready to go.

I really believe she was telling us something as she worsened.  And I really believe that once we listened and made the decision, she was finally able to relax.  And I really do believe she was ready to go.

And although this gives me some comfort in knowing that this was the right decision, and I'm so glad that she seemed ready... I was not.  I am not.

I'm trying to remember gratitude for the 15 years I got with her.  I really am.  That's a lot of years for a dog, and I know we were extremely lucky to have that time with her.

But honestly, right now, I'm just lost and broken and sad.

And I just miss her.

Push-ups

So this topic probably fits into both a secret shame and self-sabotage: push-ups.

Now, my numbers themselves aren’t all that bad. I fell behind quite a bit when I hurt my back, but all in all they’re decent. So why am I choosing push-ups for this blog?

Well… if I’m really honest with myself, I think I take the easy way out when it comes to them.

Now, having said that, my shoulders and I have been through our share of ups and downs over the years. I know that if I really start pushing toward 20 consecutive full push-ups, it never seems to fail—I end up hurting my shoulders. Then I have to back off, let them recover, and slowly build myself back up again.

But… if I’m really honest, I also tend to avoid full push-ups more than I probably need to.

I’m absolutely capable of doing at least a few before switching to modified. They’re just slower. I struggle with them. And maybe I don’t really want anyone else to see that. Or know that. I don’t know.

So yeah… push-ups are probably one of my secret shames.

I don’t really want to admit to anyone how hard they are for me. But even more than that, I don’t want people to know how often I try to avoid them. And that’s really where the self-sabotage comes in.

Every time I choose the easier version before I’ve actually challenged myself, I’m making it easier to stay exactly where I am. I’m protecting myself from struggling in front of other people, but I’m also getting in the way of my own progress.

Maybe that’s the real lesson here. It’s not really about push-ups. It’s about being willing to struggle, even when other people might see it.

Accountability

It was back to "normal" this week.

Classes, teaching, daily responsibilities, and everything else that had been set aside for a while are now back at the forefront.

One thing that was a little different this week was bringing Sihing Ward into our fight choreography training. We've asked him to coach us, and we had our first session yesterday. We covered a lot of ground, and both Laura and I came away with things to practice before we meet again.

I'm sure you're all aware that Laura and I didn't develop our fight choreography just for the Tiger Challenge. It also serves as one of our personal requirements. The intention is to continue working on it throughout the year and, hopefully, have it polished and performance-ready for the New Year's Banquet.

This requirement isn't just about creating something cool. It's also a way to keep me engaged and accountable. It's really hard to fall off the wagon when you know someone is counting on you in a very specific and tangible way. This one single requirement has become a huge part of my motivation and, ultimately, my success. 

Family

I've had the last 1 1/2 weeks "off" to visit with a whole bunch of family that gathered at our place.  It was filled with lots of fun and re-connection.  The last of my guests left today, and the house is very quiet.  

I managed to fit in a few reps of this and that, but not even close to the daily requirements.  

But honestly, I wouldn't change a thing.  I didn't watch a single second of tv, nor did I do any doom scrolling.  Every moment was spent with family.

On another note, I have my MRI booked for August 28.  I was surprised, and grateful, that I was able to get in so quickly.

Injury Update

A bit of an update on the injuries I'm dealing with at the moment.

I've mostly recovered from my back injury.  I've been spending a lot of time with my chiropractor.  I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a bridesmaid at this point.  Lol.

There's still some tension remaining when I bend or lift, but she thinks that may be lingering because of my knee.  Her opinion is that the back injury itself had a lot to do with my back compensating far more than I realized over the last few months, and it finally just had enough.  So I'm doing lots of back and core exercises to help it heal and build the strength it needs to handle the extra load while I continue navigating the knee issues.

Now for the knee.

The injury initially happened on March 9.  By the beginning of June, about three months in, I started expressing concern that we'd hit a standstill with recovery.  I was still getting the occasional "slipping" sensation, still had noticeable inflammation that prevented me from fully bending the knee, and continued to have pain along the inside of the joint whenever I did lateral movements (think sitting in a butterfly stretch) or any movement where the muscles and connective tissues had to engage and stabilize the knee (think holding a crane stance).

My chiropractor suggested I see a physiotherapist because she was starting to think there might be something more going on than just a severe sprain.  Long story short, he ran me through several tests, and it was his opinion that I may have torn my ACL and/or have damage to my meniscus.  He referred me to a Sports Medicine Physician, whom I saw on Tuesday.  She repeated many of the same tests but took them quite a bit further.  I definitely did not enjoy some of the manipulations she put my knee through, and several of them were quite painful.  She agrees with the physiotherapist and has ordered an MRI.  One of her biggest concerns is that, with my good knee, although there's a lot of movement available, there's still a definite stopping point to how far she can push it.  My injured knee doesn't have that same firm endpoint, which suggests there's likely damage to one or more of the structures that normally provide stability.

For now, I'm supposed to continue avoiding any pivots, twisting or jumping on that leg and keep my movements as controlled as possible.  She also wants me wearing a knee brace anytime I'm doing anything more physical than simply walking around.

So, if any of you have experience with knee braces, I'd love to hear your recommendations.  Right now I'm wearing a fairly basic slip-on brace with a couple of Velcro straps.  If there are better options that still strike a good balance between support and comfort...comfortable enough that I'll actually wear them...I'd really appreciate your suggestions.

The other thing I need to figure out is how to keep moving forward with some of the requirements for this year.

For example, my five applications.  I had them all worked out, but I haven't been practicing them because I've been waiting to get better so I could perform them as they were originally intended.  In my defense, based on what we knew at the time, we didn't think this was anything overly serious, it just needed time to heal.  With the new information, though, I have to accept that my current physical limitations may be my reality for quite some time.  Rather than continuing to wait, I think the better approach is to analyze each application, identify the sections that carry too much risk, and modify them so I can continue progressing safely.  I may even have to scrap parts of some applications and rebuild them from scratch.

Although I've still been training, still working hard....I feel like I've mostly been holding steady...and not really making progress.  I need to start moving forward again, injury and all.

Hand To Core, Core To Hand

As I was recovering from my back injury, I was doing a lot of visualization work, and I noticed something in Da Mu Hsing 4 that I want to explore further.  For the time being, I simply need to get these thoughts on paper before they're lost.

During the second bell block sequence, we end with the ridge hand, then slide-step into a horse stance with a right palm and a slight push.  Please bear with me....I know that terminology can sometimes create confusion.

As I continued visualizing the movement, I found myself imagining my ridge hand remaining stationary while my body moved around it, almost like Bagua circle walking. I found this really interesting because I'd never thought about this section in that way before.

Once I began thinking of the hand as remaining fixed while the body moved around it, I started wondering what application might fit that idea.  Without getting too complicated, I imagined a ridge hand to the neck where the hand maintains contact as I move around the opponent (sticky hands?), followed by a palm heel, or even just a push, from behind.  This also reminded me a lot of the triangle stepping we do, where we continue moving around our opponent while they remain relatively stationary. I know there are several other places throughout our forms where this same idea seems to appear.

Discussing this further in a one-on-one, I realized I was only scratching the surface.  If I start thinking about expansion and contraction during these types of movements, it becomes even more interesting.

Typically, we expand by launching a strike outward and then contract by drawing everything back into our center.  In these cases, we still expand by extending the strike, but instead of contracting by withdrawing the arm, we contract by bringing the rest of our body toward the point of contact.  Rather than the hand returning to the core, the core returns to the hand.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around this (and have since also experimented with it in my training), and I'm not even sure it translates well into writing.  But it feels like a different way of thinking about expansion and contraction and I think there's something much deeper here than I first realized.

Connection, Alignment and the Six Harmonies

Today's Kao Shi class was my first class back on the mats.

I'm so glad to say that it went really well. Better than I had anticipated, in fact.  I still went slow and deliberate with most everything, but I was able to participate in the majority of the lesson.

A couple things in particular stood out for me.

First was when we were working on our thrust punches from horse stance.  The goal was to ensure that our hips and core were engaging with the same release and rotation as the upper body.  For the first round, I held back.  I was worried about my back.  More specifically, I was worried about engaging those muscles too much and setting myself back again.  So instead of letting the movement happen naturally, I consciously resisted it.

What I found interesting was that this was the round where I felt the most strain.  The pressure wasn't coming from the movement itself.  It was coming from my attempt to prevent the movement.  In the following rounds I stopped trying to control everything and simply allowed my body to do what it wanted to do.  The hips rotated.  The core engaged.  And everything worked together.

The second was when we were doing our forms work.  I was being very deliberate about my alignment.  Any reaching or leaning is still painful.  Those are the movements that continue to remind me that my back isn't quite ready yet.  So throughout the class, I paid close attention to settling over my hips and maintaining my structure.  I found that my movements felt really good and I was able to avoid any of the pressure and pain that I've been anticipating.

At first, these felt like two separate lessons.  But the more I thought about it, the more I realized they were really the same.

The body functions best when everything is connected and working together. When one part stops participating, another part is forced to compensate. When we become misaligned, sacrificing our structure, other parts have to pick up the slack.  Whenever something becomes disconnected, we run into problems.

Today was the first time in quite a while that I was able to feel that lesson rather than simply understand it intellectually.

And after several months of injuries, modifications, setbacks, and frustrations, it felt really good to leave class not just feeling better, but feeling like I was learning again.

A Message To My Team

A quick message to my team and instructors,

I'm not going to lie—I was relieved when we ran out of time today.

I know I need to share how I'm doing in order to work through it all. I also realize my recent blog was only the first step, not a resolution of any kind. But to be honest, right now I'm not in a place where I think I could speak openly and honestly, face-to-face, and still hold it together.  So I apologize for not speaking up.

That said, I promise I'm not wallowing. At least, I'm aware of how easy it would be to do that, and I'm trying my best not to. Rather, my current situation just feels overwhelming, and not just with Kung Fu. My home life feels paused as well. Everything churning around in my head is making it difficult to formulate the plans I need in order to keep moving forward with confidence.

These are the questions I keep coming back to:

• What can I still do right now, in this very moment?

• Once I am moving again, how should I ease back into training?

• Whether it's my knee or my back, what do I need to avoid, and what should I focus on instead?

• What are the chances I'll be able to participate on July 1, and what might that realistically look like?

• What modifications can I make to my requirements, both personal and pre-set, so I can continue to honour the spirit of them and still get the most out of the experience?

• How will this all affect my grading year specifically?  How should I approach my physical candidate requirements if these injuries continue to linger? Board breaking? Five applications?  And will there be ways to do this as to still qualify for a grading?

• How do I still support the team, and my fellow candidates, in a meaningful way?

• What modifications should I be considering for my staff form, whether temporary or permanent?

• How will I approach instructing, lesson planning, and managing classes?

And then, essentially, repeat most of those same questions in relation to my home and family life.

I fully recognize where I'm at, and I know this feeling will pass. But I also recognize that it won't be the injuries healing that determines when it passes, it's the plan.

I could still be bedridden and get through this slump if I could come up with a plan that made me feel like I was still moving forward. That's what's holding me back right now. I can't seem to come up with an action plan that I feel good about.

But as I was writing this, something shifted slightly.

Listing these things out makes them feel less like one giant tangled problem and more like several smaller problems that can be tackled one at a time.

So here's my first plan:

Today, I'm only going to work on the first question.

What are all the things I can still do right now, in this very moment?