In high school, I began training in Taekwondo. While the visually striking jump kicks and impressive flexibility were captivating, the discipline taught me far more about my own body. The foundation of any physical practice, such as martial arts, lies in training the body's instinctual understanding and intuitive awareness until it becomes almost reflexive. With time, you learn to trust your body completely, experiencing moments where it feels as though it moves of its own accord - perhaps guided by a trained subconscious. Much like playing the piano, where your fingers glide effortlessly over the keys as your mind drifts elsewhere - you come to realise that the body possesses its own intelligence, one that is deeply attuned to the subconscious. Moreover, this subconscious can be deliberately and systematically trained.
There is a profound ecstasy in achieving a singularly focussed flow state, a heightened level of perception you may not have previously believed possible. In combat, this state is transformative - a pseudo-meditative space for those who seek internal stillness yet are driven by an innate restlessness. For me, these moments provided a rare semblance of inner peace.
Taekwondo also illuminated a truth applicable to all disciplines - whether mental, spiritual, or physical - while progress can be made in solitude, it pales in comparison to the growth unlocked through collaboration with an exceptional sparring partner. Such a partner - whether they challenge the mind, spirit, or body - reveals weaknesses, identifies openings, and facilitates growth in ways solitary practice cannot. We were never meant to journey through life entirely alone. Yet as one hones one's craft, finding equally skilled sparring partners becomes increasingly rare. When such a person does appear, it is a moment of profound alignment. There is usually a mutual unlocking of new possibilities and pathways for exponential growth - offering a synergy that is nothing short of bliss.