I went through all my gumbup this morning.  I discovered:

A) I still remember them all (this has not been obvious in class)

B) They are still awesome (even if I have a long way to go on them.

More to the point, I’m back in the saddle.  Will I be a badass by next week?  Nope.  But I’m pointed that direction once again.

So this training in my sleep thing seems to be working.

I always wear my yellow belt when training on my own.  Today, I paused briefly to wonder why.  All of my belts hang out in the same area, so it’s not like I’ve lost track of the others.  I’m not a yellow belt any longer; if I wanted to wear rank, I’d wear brown.  If I wanted to be humble, I’d wear white.  If I wanted to wear the coolest belt, I’d wear blue, as that’s the point where I skipped rank and learned the form where the first glimmer of Haidong’s fluidity bursts open and drowns you in awesome.

But I wear yellow.  Why is that?

I think it’s because Form 1 was the first time I trained something into my bones.  Because yellow was the first test I fought for instead of just rushing for, as with orange, or stumbling toward as I did with brown.  Oh, I’ve put in time, effort and pain for every belt.  But there’s a certain mindset, a certain striving and desire that actually propels me forward on my martial arts journey, and Yellow was where I hit that stride.  Yellow was the first belt I earned not as a dude chillin’ with friends, but as a martial artist.

Not as a good martial artist, but as a martial artist nonetheless.

Train More Sword Version