keep on plodding

I feel like I'm at quite a turning point in my life now. It doesn't seem like all that long ago that I'd go to school, stomp my homework into oblivion then spend endless hours playing Ragnarok Online and Counter Strike. Now though, I can't stomp my commitments into oblivion. A commitment takes days, weeks, months...serious decisions have to be made about what commitments I can and should take on.

I seriously considered quitting martial art again. I had quit once before in 2007 disappointing many people in the process. The decision then was so easy, I only practiced seriously because of the playfights I got into with my friends at the time, which I always lost. We grew up, grew apart, and without them, why bother comtinuing? But now, 2010, with two students of my own, the decision was not quite so simple. I talked about this last night with my only female student Alix. It was clear to me that the mental debates I was having with myself were too complicated for her, so I stopped for a moment, listened only to her problems, her goals. She had struggled to find physical disciplines that would stick to her in the past, but she was finally sticking to martial art with me because of my teaching method. I thought for a moment - if she continues training with me, she still won't achieve her fitness goals. My training does not build muscle or kill much fat - it builds technique and a fiery demeanor.

Then it occurred to me. I wanted to quit martial art because I was not getting enough out of it compared to dance. But, I can easily change the martial arts training to better suit Alix and her needs...I could just as easily change the training to give myself more value as well. There's no need for me to give so much that I bleed myself dry - I can grow in these sessions as well.

I'll remain Kung Fu Hung-Su, for now. :]

Then there's other people. I'm told that my mother's been terribly upset with both the men out of the house; my father's run off to another city and I've moved out of home. My autistic brother is chaotic and uncontrollable, and my sister can't seem to offer any comfort - she tells me that sometimes mother would call out my name, and be disappointed to see my sister at the door instead. So, I am required by moral law to do something about the situation. It's so strange. I feel an enormous need to help people - I teach for free, do a great deal of 'professional' work and chores for free, but feel no need to help my blood family. I don't know why I am this way, and for now, am not about to dive into why.

Then there are people who I do care about. Today was the day I'd finally see Valentine's Day again. Almost 3 months since we had last really spoken. Drawn out so long, I somehow felt no excitement when I woke that morning...then I got a message from her asking if I was still coming to see her - somehow, everything streamed back :] I imagined her sweet smiling face, her little voice, her tiny stature, her big beautiful mind, I was excited, wondered what I would wear, how I would do my hair, all these needless details you'd wonder if she'd even notice.

I can't remember if I have ever been somewhere last. For as long as I can remember, I always find myself waiting for other people to show up. I remember cursing my poor vision as I tried scanning the crowd for her face, then seeing her standing on top of a flight of stairs, in her little skirt, leggings and fluffy scarf...it's so strange. There was a time when I would have sprinted up the stairs, picked her up and swung her about, but I felt reserved. I remember after I kissed her that night so long ago, that I had to find a way to not love her too much - I think I succeeded.

I certainly enjoyed my time with her :] I wasn't even all that bothered by how hard she was to read, I only enjoyed her wit and her marvelous energy. I find it a wonderful coincidence that her name sounds like the word for "fireworks" in another language...she really is like a firecracker. Little and innocuous, it makes wonderful explosion when given a tiny little igniting spark. Just the same, she is little and innocent, but with something as little as me hitting the dance floor, she screams with delight, something I will never tire of. I, love her company. I love her long stares into my eyes, I love her love and concern for my madness, I love teasing her endlessly about everything, I love our mutual taste in movies, I love her design flair, I love her need to produce as well as consume life, I love that she's as utterly bizarre as I am, I love her incredible awareness of every detail about me, I love the person I become when I'm with her.

Why the hell am I considering dating someone else?