It’s another morning, another day. I’ve gotten up, dressed up in my day clothes and have I am. The mornings are still very dark at 7. There’s snow on the ground, on the spruce and on my lettuce bed. The buddhas sit unperturbed beneath their canopy. Their placidness amid all weathers is admirable. It’s what I strive for each day. I don’t always succeed but seeing them each time is a reminder. I try again and again.
Each day I get a new opportunity to try/do at what I yearn and have yet not achieved. How awesome is that? I need not dwell in the pit of self-pity and failure. Each day I can try something new, go down a different path. That’s what I have to remember. There is no point in keep doing the same thing, expecting different results. That’s wrong mathematics or insanity as Einstein and Dr. Phil would say.
I am a fan of quotes. They contain so much wisdom and truth in a sentence or two. Einstein said: “Nothing happens until something moves.” Wayne Dyer: “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” I’ve been putting these quotes into practice over the last year. Change is slow as it is difficult to be awake and conscious. I’ve been mesmerized and swept along the routine of everyday life. Sometimes I forget to stop and smell the flowers or the coffee though I love that quote. I’m trying again – stopping to notice, to smell, to document.
Now I have to move and do something else.
It’s been 2 months since I’ve last sat here. I’m fighting the urge to rise and make myself another cup of tea/coffee. It’s uncomfortable being in this space again, trying to tap, tap out the letters, words, thoughts. The space is bigger, wider. I’m a little lost, sloshing around, trying to find and touch the boundaries. I’m like the little seedlings starting out. They/I like the snugness of a small space. Our roots/limbs to feel the sides and edges. I like to think I’m more pliable though. I can s-t-r-e-t-c-h, reaching for the stars. I can grow. I have grown, haven’t I? There! Now I’ve earned that time out for that cuppa before continuing.
I have my cuppa decaf. Somehow I feel better having something to sip on. It’s better/healthier than a lit cigarette on an ashtray. That’s my old self – a cigarette before/while doing. That’s one way I have grown – physically healthier. I’m leaner and less mean, thanks to my three times a week aerobics class and a swim once a week. The mean part is mostly in my mind. I don’t think I’m a mean person but I always fault myself for not being kinder, for being such a grump and ranting so much. I still have those feelings sometimes. I no longer mind my inability to be ‘kinder’. I’m kinder to myself. I rant because I’m not one for status quo and don’t rock the boat. How can things improve that way? I’ll be like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, waking up to the same day, same tune on the radio every day.
Practice makes for better. It’s a good place to stop. I like challenges. Everything is a challenge to me. And I grumble about the hardness of all that. But the grumbling is me trying to find that comfort zone, that snugness, the space to breathe in and out and to start again. What I know for sure is that we have to start – again and again, discarding what doesn’t work, keeping the good stuff.
onethousandandtwo 