Style: Personal Sequence
Teacher: Self
Studio: Home Practice

I'm at a loss for words. I'm blatantly suffering from writer's block. I'm tongue-tied. It's been ninety days.

Here I am. Moments after rolling up my mat and placing it back in its bag, my laptop is open and my fingertips are hovering reluctantly over the keys. I'm paralyzed. I have no words. I figured by now I would have a quotable life lesson I could end things with, maybe some words of wisdom that could heal the world. At least some sort of concluding sentiment, some last thoughts to wrap up the trip. I got nothing.

Just like last time, the experience is wholly anticlimactic. Today is no different then any other day. No light from the heavens shone down to bless me with a medal of honour, no rounds of applause can be heard. It's really the simplicity of the moment that is making the most impact. The changes have all taken place under the surface, far below ground level. Deep down I'm experiencing a transformation, a subtle metamorphosis. I can't quite figure out what's going on to tell you the truth. I can't seem to put my finger on it, to narrow it down. I'm not exactly sure. It's a nameless, formless, shape-shifting entity, a mysterious creature that transcends my ability to compose a sentence around it. Tonight I'm not going to put too much thought into it all. I'll do my best to put down my scalpel and stethoscope for the evening, maybe take off my lab coat. I want to keep it simple. For now, I want to let things marinate. I want to calmly digest the experience with no input from my mind. I think tonight I'll just let it be.