The Dreamer's Pen

Over time, I’ve found myself outgrowing certain activities, one of the most significant being karate and tumbling. These were my world for much of my childhood and early tween years. I trained in Isshin-ryu karate, a martial art that emphasizes both striking and grappling techniques. I was dedicated to the craft, eagerly learning every form, stance, and kata, feeling a sense of accomplishment with every belt I earned. Alongside karate, tumbling was another passion of mine, and I had a natural flair for it. The freedom of flipping and twisting through the air was exhilarating, a feeling of control and grace.

But as I grew older, these hobbies started to clash with my body. I’d endured my share of injuries, sprains, strains, and falls that took longer and longer to recover from. What once felt like a challenge I could rise to became a burden. The physical toll of constant practice began to outweigh the satisfaction it once gave me.

Around the same time, my focus began to shift. Music, which had always been a part of my life but not the focal point, started to take over. The discipline of music, the depth of expression it offered, and the sense of belonging I felt in the music world captured my attention in a way that karate and tumbling never quite could. As I poured more of myself into my musical journey, the martial arts and tumbling gradually became distant memories, their echoes fading as new interests and passions took center stage.

Looking back, I can see how the evolution from one activity to another was not just about growing up, but also about finding my true calling. Music offered a different kind of expression, one that resonated deeply with my soul, filling a space that karate and tumbling no longer could. Though I’ll always carry the memories of my time in the dojo and tumbling gym with me, I’ve learned that our interests can transform over time, reflecting where we are in life and where we’re headed.