I’m looking forward to Tai Chi this morning.
I’ll admit to the tiniest bit of dread. It turns out maybe I'm not the reincarnation of Zhang Sanfeng after all. And 9:00 AM, really? Whose idea was that.
Sadly, it takes me less than a minute to complete all the moves I know so far — all of which may sound easy ("place the step heel to toe"), but I'm here to tell ya, this shit is complicated, and precise, and very, very slooooow.
I’m kinda bad at it, too. My balance sucks (when did that start?), and it takes me forever to learn the next few steps. So, I'm kinda trying to keep my balance, straining new muscles, and learning new moves, all while Sufi explains what I'm doing wrong.
Anxiety much?
But so far, so good. I’m liking it. When I actually get past all of my personality disorders and focus only on the moves, it feels like a meditation. I am not a praying man, but it feels a bit like how I imagine prayer to be. I walk out afterwards feeling serene, and a little righteous.
Anyway, it’s mine. My discovery, my volition, my little bucket-list thing. No one said I had to be good at it.
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