because, but, pride.

I’m the kind of person who’s reluctant to switch positions because a cat is on my lap.

Even if my knees are going numb. Or that stabbing shoulder pain starts up.

What makes me think I’m ready to switch anything?

Because, I want to.

Because, I’ve been thinking about it.

Because, thinking about it is half the battle.

The other side of that fight is dedicated to doing what you’re thinking about doing.

So, exercise seems like the best place to begin. Begin, again, that is.

I know I loved it when I did it. It’s an energizing / endorphin / accomplishment trifecta.

Walking the long way around to work grabs me 15 minutes in the morning and 15 in the afternoon. But, that’s only two days a week, and those two are in a row.

On the days I camp out in my home office, my intentions are good.

But, not good enough.

The other day, I optimistically set my alarm for 6:15 am. Plenty of time to treadmill, shower and eat breakfast before wandering into my home work space.

But, I was on Society6 until 11:50 pm uploading art; fooling around with store set-up.

But, the furry fiends woke me up at 4:30 am; yowling like starving banshees.

But, it was chilly; a cup of coffee sounded good.

But, I sat to sip; deciding multitasking email deletion could be accomplished.

But, I clicked an email; clicked a link and clicked another link.

But, when I finally wasn’t interested in the next article; I scrolled to the time screen.

But, it was 7:40 am; and damn.

But, I’m going to do what I used to do; when I wasn’t sure I was going to do something.

Declare.

If I tell you, then I have to. Even if you don’t care if I do.

Because, someday you might think to ask, “Hey, did you…?”

Because, the tiniest threat of someone pulling that loose string on the hem of my sweater dress that could, in fact, leave me bare when it all unravels; exposed as a non-achiever.

So, I psych myself out.

I can proudly do what I say or embarrassedly concoct another confession.

Who says pride is always a bad thing?

Quote for the Week:

Peace I Give to You

Funeral lessons were drawn from both Testaments.

From the Old Testament, Psalm 121:1-2

“I will lift up my eyes to the hills

From whence comes my help?

My help comes from the Lord…”

 

A Song of Ascent, which continues to be quite the personal message, considering Jeff’s emphatic announcement that my baptism one year before his death was more important to him than our wedding day.

When he said, “Now, I know you’ll be alright,” he meant my place in our Father’s house would be secured.

Not premonitious; just a declaration of peacefulness. Jeff reveled in the calm that my soul was safely held and would be accounted for in heaven. The greatest of gifts.

It’s taken me a few years to appreciate this is the eternal promise that kept me going strong through the first few years.

It’s taken me a few more years to admit I have loosened my grip, lost my hold: effectively muted the joy. Despite that, here I am.  With barely any effort on my part, still going forward.

The thing is, I’m ready to revise, now. Just about everything. I want to begin again. Embrace what needs renewal.

2008, down 118 pounds. 2020, I’ve gained 12 back, slowly.

It’s easy to break it into bites that please my palate. That’s only a pound a year!

Except I am now further out away from what should have continued. You see, I wasn’t done. 30 more to go is now 42.

It’s also easy to declare this is what I want. The hard part is action; required.

Then, there’s trying to do too much. Or too much to do, so, not trying.

I know what I must do. I always know what I must do.

There’s really only one way through. But, to take that path….

First things first: reclaim the calm.

Quote for the Week: 2020 09 01 peace i give you jakorte