Honestly? I’m not entirely sure what’s going on with me either.

It’s like all of a sudden, I woke up and decided to treat myself more respectfully. I finished my novel revision, started eating better almost overnight, and have started buying clothes that make me feel better about myself. (My wallet doesn’t like that last one.)

Is it a coincidence that I allowed myself to miss kung fu all of June? Probably not. Work required my energy last month, and instead of fighting it, instead of feeling guilty for missing kung fu and guilty for not being at work more when I did go, I just let myself dive into work. I gave it 100% instead of fighting with myself all the time.

You know, I was really happy last month. I was really happy to be doing something with all my heart, instead of forcing the “balance.” Before that, I would scramble around trying to fit work, kung fu, and writing into a day that didn’t have nearly enough hours. That lack of focus kept me from truly enjoying or excelling at any of them. I was not being “mindful” in each area of my life — I was always thinking about how my performance in the other areas was suffering.

I love kung fu more than… well, more than almost everything else in the world. But as you guys have always been quick to point out, I can’t do it all. I have a demanding and incredibly rewarding job right now, and a writing career I’d really like to get back on track. I need to give them everything I’ve got… because they deserve it, and because I’m better when I throw myself wholly into things. That’s what makes me proud of myself.

Am I quitting kung fu? Hell, no! And you’re crazy if you even thought that for one second! But I am hereby giving myself permission to miss kung fu, tai chi, and weapons whenever I need to — no guilt, no recriminations, no whining. There may be a point in my life where the balance swings and kung fu is back to being a 100% endeavor, but now is not the time. I’ll still go when I can, and I’ll be mindful and 100% when I’m there, but that’s all I will promise.

I like myself best when I’m passionate — when I’m invested in something with all my mind, body, and spirit. Right now, that means making some hard choices.

It’s funny how the sudden desire to eat vegetables and wear fitted clothes led to such an epiphany. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m heading back into my novel revision. Thanks for listening.

Yesterday was not a great day for eating healthy. It started out just fine, with a bowl of Cinnamon Puffins smothered in blueberries. (Many blueberries are lurking just below the surface of the milk, I assure you.)
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My research into healthier eating continues! Inspired by Off Her Cork and her wonderful blog (good eats *and* martial arts — the perfect gateway drug!), I’m determined to change more than just my vegetarian status. I want to reduce my intake of processed foods, eat more raw and home-concocted meals, improve my intake of vitamins and minerals, and generally eat better tasting meals.

To get in the spirit of things, here’s what I had for dinner tonight:

From Food and Drink

• Fresh mozzarella (probably too much) drizzled with balsamic vinegar
• Tomatoes sprinkled with pepper
• Baby spinach (yum!)
• Pear (for dessert)

Believe it or not, this is one of the best meals I’ve eaten in ages. I loved every bite and felt full and happy when I was done. I have so much to learn about putting together well-rounded meals, but this is a really good step for me. I didn’t just come home and throw a frozen dinner in the microwave. In my book, that’s a huge victory!

Edit: Artistically, I wish I had put the mozzarella between the tomatoes and the spinach for better contrast. Let’s hope food arranging skills improve, too.

One of the things I find most distressing about Michael Jackson’s death is the way in which people criticize and condemn the way other people grieve.

I cried when Octavia Butler died. I’d never met her or even seen her in person, yet I cried. Sobbed, actually, and not even just once. This woman’s books and stories had profoundly affected me as a human and as a writer, and I felt a sudden inescapable sorrow at her loss.

Yet… people are not allowed to react that way to Michael Jackson’s death?

My feeling is: Let people grieve how they want and need to.

Certain deaths and losses will affect me and not you, and vice versa. What we can do is respect that we’ve each had different life experiences to get where we are today. We have different heroes, different turning points, different inspirations. If it was playing Dungeons & Dragons that got me through a tough spot in my teens, maybe it was listening to Jackson’s Off the Wall album for you. Or watching Days of our Lives, or reading Lord of the Rings, or playing Donkey Kong for hours upon hours in the arcade.

Maybe Michael Jackson was a “sick, narcissistic pedophile” to you. Guess what? He was someone else’s inspiration. He was their reason for going into music or dance or fashion.

Let people grieve, you know? Let them tell you who was important in their lives, and why… and not just for the people you already respect.

When Katharine Hepburn died, I was crushed. She wasn’t a saint, but she touched my life in a way no other person has. Yes, she was a “celebrity” — and oh, how we love to hate them! But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve to be mourned.

As a writer, I have a very profound respect for someone who’s mission in life was to touch other people’s lives. Although I loved Michael Jackson’s music when I was growing up, I would not say he changed or impacted my life in a meaningful way. That said, I fully understand that he changed many people’s lives, and I respect their loss.

My definition of “family” contains this rule:

No matter how long you’re away from Family, when you go back, it feels like you never left.

I returned to my martial arts family tonight, after missing almost five full weeks — the longest I’ve ever gone in a row without attending class. I was absolutely terrified to go back. I’m out of shape, I’ve grown soft, I’ve forgotten everything, I’m so far behind in kung fu and weapons.

But it wasn’t scary when I got there. It felt like I’d never left.

And oh, the energy! I watched the tail end of the kids’ class, laughing along with them as they played our version of hacky-sack. When the beginning Tai Chi class started, I was grinning ear-to-ear. I had no trouble reviewing the first half of the form a few dozen times, reacquainting myself with that great big ball o’ chi I love so much.

Afterward, weapons. Staff came back to me. Even spear came back, after a few minor memory nudges. And after those warm-ups, I started sword. Who doesn’t love sword? Sure, I’m behind the rest of the class, but who cares? I got forward and reverse spins, figure eights, behind-the-head blocks, and a few moves that make me feel like a total badass. And I haven’t even started the form yet!

Oh, yes. Sword. We will be good friends, you and I.

I’m glad to be back home. :)