Happy Wednesday! Time to re/organize my Base Camp, but first…
Since this website is sparkly new, there’s no backstory to link yet.
– this is post number two –
I’ll get you up to speed quickly.
In 2018, I grabbed my gi and went on a bit of a walkabout. I landed at Southlake Gracie Barra for a while, found my favorite yoga instructors -still, to this day- at Southlake’s Yoga Retreat, and collected some truly beautiful humans along the way -Texas will always have a piece of my heart.
Life did what it does. I babysat critters, played in the snow, worked for Gary and Sandra in Jackson, New Hampshire, a place so magical it barely felt real…
Eventually, I swung down to New Jersey to spend time with Shawn before his fight. But! The fight was canceled days before it happened, because the world collectively lost its mind. I found myself stranded at an Airbnb where toilet paper was hoarded and freakouts were fashionable. Thankfully, Aisa and Michelle opened their doors to this usually sweaty, temporarily homeless woman.
Then, I got concussed.
One day I’ll tell you the unfortunately true story about Dr. Karen and Nurse Ratched kicking me out of the hospital because I wouldn’t tell them what drugs I was on or who hit me…
“I refuse to believe the skinny white woman on my table is a martial artist! Now, who hit you?!”
No drugs. No attacker. Just a concussion clashing with their bias problem.
The ambulance crew and trauma unit were incredible. That doctor was not. I believe in Karma, and she keeps receipts.
A few yadda-yaddas later…
I’m now healing an old femoral tendon injury. Don’t feel bad for me. I ignored it and trained through it for two years, which took me from athlete to a smiley, warm body on the mats. Sigh. Groan. LOL.
My last day training was Halloween-ish, when I couldn’t lift my leg to put on my gi pants. I’m healing now. I wake-up sore, but improve after a couple of hours. Progress. I’ll take it.
Which brings me to the thing I keep circling.
Not because I’m unhappy. I’m not. The piggies and I are perfectly fine tucked into Heather’s spare room, hanging out with her sweet kitties. I like where I’m living, it’s near jiu-jitsu the room is fine for streaming. There’s no rush.
But this is an old wanna-do I never followed through on. I thought about it in Texas, shelved it, then life happened. Concussion happened. Logistics happened.
Right now, the logistics actually aren’t that big.
I don’t have a van yet, but I’m going to start researching one. I want the option. For critter sitting. For road trips. For possibility.
Because the answer is always no if you don’t give yourself the option for a yes.
Before any of that, though, I need to organize this Base Camp. Its zones. Its flow. Work, rest, and play all living in the same small ecosystem without friction.
…because maybe the point isn’t the van at all…
Maybe it’s learning how to live well inside whatever walls I’m in.
Chat soon,
Kimberly
