Coffee: Cafe Pajaro Extra Dark, Trader Joe’s Brand
There were rumors of snow on the forecast but we only got rain. C’est la vie.
A cold day. I woke up by knocking over the glass of water on my nightstand. It landed on the carpet and soaked an old laptop, thankfully one I’ve backed up most everything I need from. I haven’t yet turned the thing on to see if it still works. I don’t know that I need to. Let the old dog sleep.
I’ve felt a change in myself lately. It’s surprised me, but it’s also safe to say the change was pre-meditated. After so much banging against this or that wall, I knew I had to throw a wrench in what I’d been doing. Most of my life has been one high speed chase toward complex, specific, largely unattainable goals.
For the past few weeks – since the start of December – I’ve been spending weekends looking out the dining room window. I don’t watch the clock and I’m careful not to stay in my room. I have a book to read and my laptop for when I feel like writing and I plug my phone into the speakers so that I can’t touch it. I listen to music. I drink coffee and barley tea.
It was hard at first. Empty time, and me with a bucket full of stresses to fill it up. But I’ve gotten better at the habit and I think it’s seeped in. It’s not just the weekends anymore. I don’t feel as much pressure to board the next plane and arrive somewhere. That’s not to say I’m not working – hell, I’m putting in more hours professionally and with writing than I have at any point prior – but i feel more relaxed while I’m doing it.
This is starting to sound like one of those new-agey posts. Stressless moments and mental peace aren’t options for everyone. When you’re staring at a spreadsheet of expenses trying to factor gas vs. food, you’re in combat with a world that won’t let go of you. Calm is a privilege. All that said, it’s a healthy step if you can afford to take it.
I look in the mirror in the mornings and don’t know myself. It’s all I ever wanted, but I had to let go of all those feverish loves to get here.
Novel Count: 14,971
Currently Reading: Killing Commendatore, Haruki Murakami
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Whoever’s calm and sensible is insane!Rumi