remember the good

I often want to blog when I get back from a good class. I want to remember that it was good. That I felt something like happiness afterwards. I may not remember tomorrow. I may not even remember later tonight. 

When the endorphins et al wind down, I'll be left remembering everything that went wrong, instead. Next time I'm gearing up for class, I'll be fighting with the little kid in me all over again, who never wants to do anything. My memories of enjoyment will be distant and vague, but every mistake and weakness will be vivid and glaring.

I don't know why my brain does this to me, but for the record, class was great tonight. I got to roll for the first time in years. I got triangled and kimura'd, but didn't mind at all. My kickboxing partner was another person who remembered me from before the great pandemic.. that I don't remember at all. She seemed nice, though. I don't know why I don't remember these people. I had a lot going on. I think I'll be better at remembering everyone this time around. 

I have a lot less going on now. Walking to class, I worried about that. This one thing I do, now that covid is winding down, getting back to normal, and it's mostly just this. It hardly seems adequate. My life isn't going to be all that different. Is it? 

I'm not sure that's a good idea, but my perspective was different after class. As I walked home, I wondered if this is the way to go. Maybe I don't need to ruin it by being more ambitious. One thing I've learned this past year is that I should appreciate the hell out of this, while I can. I seem to have trouble appreciating much of anything else.

. . .

They just posted this to Instagram. I'm out of view, but this was a minute of the first class.