There are a few things I do every day, and most of them pertain to keeping me alive and healthy: eat, bathe, drink water, take my prescribed medications, and sleep. Lately I’ve been enjoying journaling every morning while I drink my first cup of coffee. For the past two years I’ve done something, no matter how small, nearly every day to rehab my right knee.
Other than that, my daily activities vary, even my true passions and beloved hobbies.
A few weeks ago I was telling a friend about my weekend, which included my partner and I walking from our urban condo down the road to a fun little pub (and adjacent taco truck).
“I wish I lived close enough to walk places,” she said wistfully. She lives in a nice-sized home with a pool in the suburbs.
Lately I’ve been wishing I lived in a big house with a pool in the suburbs. I dream of big houses almost every night and wake up feeling disappointed.
Several months ago a friend remarked on Facebook that her daughter desperately wished they lived near a Target and Home Goods. They live in our rural west Texas hometown. I live within a mile of Target and Home Goods and would love to move back to a small rural town. Every time I drive to the Texas Hill Country to visit my parents I threaten to leave the metropolitan area where I live and move to one of the little towns along the way. (Ideally to a big house with a pool.)
I know successful authors and content creators who speak longingly of health insurance and retirement, which I get with my corporate job. Meanwhile I dream of being a successful full-time writer.
You see where I’m going with this?
There’s nothing wrong with having aspirations, but you also have to make sure you don’t get into the trap of never being satisfied, of thinking the grass is always greener.
During my Great 2021 Depression, I hated everything about my life: my job, my home, my “writing career.” The only things that remained steady were my close relationships. Therapy helped, but so did getting back into taekwondo. It gets me out of my house and out of my head. I’ve also cut WAY down on my social media time.
I don’t have a long-term solution to that nagging feeling of FOMO or dissatisfaction, but a hobby certainly helps, and for me, I can count on taekwondo.
And tonight, my partner and I are going to enjoy the HOA-cared-for pool at my paid-off condo and walk to a restaurant. Sounds like a good time to me.
I come from a family of creators who enjoy challenging hobbies. My dad is a painter who is especially skilled in oils and portraiture, and he was a competitive swimmer in high school and college. My mom likes doing difficult and complex knitting patterns. My brother is a professional musician.
I hit stuff.
Kidding aside, any martial artist knows they have to put in hours and years to hone their craft. It’s not a matter of mindlessly parroting or mimicking motions their Sensei or Sabumnim does. You have to develop both the mental and physical intelligence required to perform and improve upon your martial art. You have to understand why you do certain things.
First of all…hi. It’s been a month since I published anything here so welcome back and thank you for reading. For the past two months I’ve mostly been focused on getting through each day, just like everyone else has in the COVID-19 crisis. I’ve had ups, downs, and am finally starting to feel more leveled out and balanced.
Okay, hi everyone, I’m coming up for air. I thought I would be writing blog posts much more frequently than I have in the last two weeks. Turns out I’ve been just as busy as I was before COVID-19 shut down the world.
About a year ago (and some change) I started playing pool with a friend. At first it was just something to do once in a while on a lazy weekend. I had never played before and was really looking forward to it. I had visions of lounging around in a dark dive bar, telling jokes, and swigging beer while my friend and I easily played round after round of pool.
That’s not quite how it happened. The beer and hanging around in a dark dive bar definitely happened (and still do; the bartenders are cracking open my Coors Light right when I walk in the door), but it was much more difficult for me to pick up the mechanics of pool than I thought it would be. I was TERRIBLE and I was SO frustrated. It felt difficult and clunky. I couldn’t control my hands or relax my shoulders or get my angle right or do anything that my brain was telling my body to do. I couldn’t let myself just have fun and keep trying. Continue reading “How Taekwondo Has Helped (and Hurt) My Pool Game”→
It would have been so easy to skip taekwondo class last night. I’d had a long but productive and satisfying day at work (complete with key lime pie from the break room fridge) and was ready to relax and turn off my brain. It’s been cold and rainy for the last week, which is to be expected for February, but as a native Texan I just can’t abide anything below 60 degrees and didn’t want to get out into the “bad weather” any more than I had to. My Netflix queue is bursting at the seems. The bottle of wine I was saving for Thursday evening was softly calling my name.
I’d already missed a week of taekwondo due to a busy work schedule, and as I discovered at the end of last year, it was seductively easy to fill my time with other activities.
A few years ago I questioned whether taekwondo was something I was going to stick with for the long haul or a hobby I was going to toy with for a while and then set aside. I’ve since proven to myself that taekwondo is most certainly not a “passing fancy.” It’s what I turn to for physical and mental fitness, it has pushed me to and beyond my limits (and many times my patience), and I’ve achieved milestones and goals in the dojang and elsewhere I never would have thought were possible a few years ago. It’s not just a hobby or a sport. It’s a calling and a community. I want to practice taekwondo until I die.