Not Perfect, Just Present

This morning as I organize and unpack ?…

I looked at my gis laid out and realized they tell a story I do not always take time to honor. They are more than training uniforms. They are reminders. Each one holds a chapter of my life. Different cities, different seasons, and different people I once stood beside.

I have moved a lot over the years. Some moves were planned, and some felt forced by life’s timing. With every move, I gained something and I lost something. What I gained has been consistent, though. I gained support, wisdom, and community. People showed up for me in ways I did not always expect, and sometimes did not even realize I needed.

That matters because transition can mess with your head. Life has a way of convincing you that you are alone when you are in between chapters. But the truth is, I have never been fully alone. Even when I felt isolated, there were still hands reaching out. Mentors, friends, teammates, coworkers, kind strangers, and familiar faces in new places. Looking back, I can name a lot of moments where someone helped me stay steady, even if I did not see it at the time.

My jiu jitsu journey might be the clearest example of life’s unpredictability. I started, stopped, restarted, stalled again, and repeated that cycle more times than I care to admit. I have had seasons where I was consistent and proud of myself. I have also had seasons where I let months slip away. Sometimes it was because life got busy, sometimes it was because I moved, sometimes it was because I was tired, and sometimes it was because I was discouraged.

It is a strange feeling to care about something deeply, to know it is good for you, and still struggle to stay steady with it. For a long time, I treated that inconsistency like proof that I failed. Now I see it differently. My inconsistency does not mean I am broken. It means I am human. Life does not unfold in straight lines, and it does not offer clean seasons where you can improve without interruption.

Right now, I am in one of those heavy seasons. I feel scared, nervous, and sad, and I am also trying to stay hopeful. I am scared because recommitting means facing myself. It means walking back into something I once loved and admitting I let it drift. It means stepping onto the mat knowing I might not be as sharp as I once was, and that I might gas out or feel embarrassed. It also means being the new guy again, even though I have been here before.

I am nervous because I do not want to disappoint myself again. I am sad because life has been heavy, and I have been carrying loss, change, and the emotional whiplash of endings I did not want. I am still learning how to rebuild when part of me feels bruised. But I am optimistic because deep down I still believe I can come back. Not perfectly, and not as some “new and improved” version overnight. Just as myself, showing up and trying again.

That is what jiu jitsu has always been for me when I let it be what it is meant to be. It is a place where I cannot hide from my mind. It is a place where I have to breathe through discomfort and learn humility over and over. It teaches me that progress is not about never getting pinned. It is about staying calm enough to keep working. It is about returning to effort even after a rough round.

Maybe that is the bigger lesson in this season of my life. It is not just about training. It is about returning to myself. It is about remembering that even when life is unpredictable, even when I am grieving, even when I am disappointed, and even when I feel unsure, I can still choose one good thing and commit to it. I can still take one step that supports me instead of punishing me.

Tonight, seeing those gis laid out, I felt something I have not felt in a while. It was a quiet readiness. Not loud motivation, not hype, and not ego. Just readiness that says, “I am scared, but I am going anyway.” Readiness that says, “I am sad, but I am not giving up on myself.” Readiness that says, “Life is unpredictable, but I still have some control over what I do next.”

So this is me choosing my next step. I do not need to solve everything tonight. I do not need to be fearless. I do not need to be perfect. I just need to show up. And in a world where so much can change without warning, showing up might be the most powerful thing I can do.