Shoulder Rolls and Vertigo!

Tonight I am sitting with myself feeling a bit discouraged and a whole lot nauseous. One of the things I’ve been trying to do is work on areas where I know I’ve been lacking. Since returning from my transplant, I’ve been slowly testing what my body can do again.

Tonight I decided it was time to practice my shoulder rolls—something I haven’t done in four years. I knew it would take time to regain any real proficiency, but what I wasn’t prepared for was the realization of my current limitations.

I dragged a mat into the kwoon and gave it a try. My first shoulder roll from my knees was a little rough, but honestly not too bad. The next one felt better in terms of technique, but my stomach started to feel off. After a couple more attempts, my vertigo kicked in and I realized I was about to throw up.

I was really hoping to prove that, with a little practice, I could return to activities I was doing before my transplant. What I’m coming to understand is that while I continue to improve, there are still physical limitations that restrict certain movements.

Does this mean I’ll stop trying to do shoulder rolls? Absolutely not. But it does mean I need to approach them more intelligently. I don’t need to prove that I can do a shoulder roll—I need my body to be able to respond if I ever need one.

Tomorrow, I’m hoping to do just one and leave it at that, then reevaluate. A slower pace may be more sustainable. I still want to push my limits, because that’s the only way to improve, but these reality checks aren’t a bad thing. They remind me that as I move forward, I’ll always have some limitations—whether from age, transplant treatments, or injury. Still, I can continue to move forward as long as I do it in a smart way.

Busy week

This week has been very busy. I helped package lunches for the inner-city homeless, coordinated the menu for our fourth annual baking day, and work has been hectic with three upgrades occurring simultaneously. Despite all of this, I was still able to get some tai chi and kung fu training in—though not as much as I would have liked.

Weeks like this make me reflect on where my priorities truly lie and serve as a reminder that I need to be more mindful when juggling competing demands. The past few weeks have shown me that I can’t do everything by myself and that asking for assistance is sometimes necessary to move forward.

I was surprised to realize that I couldn’t manage all the baking planning, grocery shopping, and group coordination on my own. I had handled these responsibilities in previous years and genuinely believed I could do it again. However, when combined with organizing the Kinsmen Christmas hamper, attending German classes on Mondays, meditation classes on Wednesdays, exercise classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and maintaining a heavy workload at work, it became too much.

Fortunately, I have a strong support network. Once I acknowledged that I needed help, all I had to do was ask. One friend took care of all the grocery shopping after we finalized the menu, while another ensured everything was in place for baking day. The instructors have been promoting the Kinsmen Christmas hamper sign-ups for the children, and the kids have helped by making some of the weeknight suppers.

All of this support transformed what felt unmanageable into something manageable again. This week was a good reminder that you don’t have to do everything yourself to stay aligned with your priorities—and that accepting help can be just as important as discipline and effort.

Fallen Tree

We are visiting my parents in La Paz, Mexico.

The last time we were here, I experimented with something simple — listening. I placed my hands on a palm tree in the back yard and tried to feel its energy. I felt something, though I couldn’t explain what it was. Without thinking, I turned to my mom and said, “This tree is really thirsty and needs water.”

I don’t know why I said that. I just remember feeling it.

When we returned this week, my parents showed us the damage from a fallen tree. It was that same palm tree. It had completely fallen over.

Maybe I really did feel something ten months ago.

Since then, I’ve tried to feel the trees again, but nothing comes. And that feels like an important lesson in itself. In Kung Fu, we train sensitivity, but we also train patience. When we try too hard to feel, we block ourselves. True listening happens when we stop reaching and simply are.

I’ll keep practicing — not searching, just listening.

Excited to see where this goes.