04/26/2026
Green, Again
Seven years ago, I earned a green cordão.
I learned. I kept going.
Then last weekend, I walked into a new roda. Different walls. Different energy. Different eyes watching me play. And someone tied a green cord around my waist again.
The same color. The same knot.
My first instinct was to explain myself. This isn't really where I am. But I caught that instinct. I looked at it. And I put it down.
Because here's what I've come to understand: growth is not a straight line climbing toward some final version of you. It's a spiral. It keeps coming back around to the same places, in this case, the same colors, the same questions, the same humbling moments of I don't know this yet, except now I'm visiting from a different depth. I'm not at the beginning, i'm beneath it.
The beginner's mind is not a consolation prize for not knowing enough. It's the most alive a person can be inside a practice. It's the part of you that is still listening instead of performing. Still curious instead of certain.
I've worn green before. But I have never been this person wearing green. And that makes all the difference.
The spiral brought me here. I'm going to trust where it's going.
