Four walls, a doorway, a floor.
That’s really all a room really is.
And yet we become so attached to certain spaces that being away from them causes distress.
For those who didn’t know, I’m a full-time martial arts instructor and have been in my fair share of studios. Common sights are children, punching bags, re-breakable plastic boards and various weapons. A studio is just four walls too, just like any other room. But there’s one that is so much more than that to me.
Much like a childhood home, I became attached to this room and the people who filled it. The blur of students in white uniforms with various colored belts brings back the fondest of memories. Though not where I took my first karate class or earned by black belt (those memories were made across the street) the room holds many life moments that helped shape the person I am today.
Inside those four walls filled with punching bags, boards and weapons, I discovered who I was. Inside those walls I learned how to persevere through heartache, disappointment, pain and fear. I failed in that room. I won in that room.
And next Wednesday, I’ll return to that Taekwondo school for a homecoming that’ll be better than any other.