Yes, there is an art to laziness. I think I’ve pretty much mastered it. What I need to develop is a structure and discipline. Motivation has ceased to have anything to do with it, I need to discipline myself to do the things I’d like to do. I’ve started to make subtle changes so that I don’t run away screaming, so that I may take baby steps, but steps nonetheless (and not just reading about steps, thinking about the steps, hoping for the steps to show up). Implementing a new lifestyle is going to be hard, but I keep coming back to it, my desire for more spiritual understanding, so obviously this all means something to me. I can’t continue to dole out silent excuses for not doing the hard work. I did this same in therapy when I first ended up there; I would purge, complain, whine, rebel, emote, fight, struggle, hide, breakdown….but in the end, I knew that I had to create change in my life and that no one else could do that for me. I had to start the long journey, and it was hard freakin’ work. I remember feeling like I was climbing up emotional mountains and barely feeling the progress, but it seemed to suddenly dawn on me that I had made progress, I had created change, my life was finally my own work and not the work of blame. It’s interesting now to look back on that with the eyes of greater wisdom for it’s easier to remember and see the picture as a whole instead simply the ground in front of you. It’s helping me to understand how I need to proceed now, which is virtually clueless but guided by intuition. For all the reading and studying and writing and thinking, the hardest of the work begins deep within that scary place that’s hidden, mysterious, even dangerous.
I am feeling more at ease with even the dangerous stuff (I say that now sitting primly on my ergonomic computer chair! HA!) or at least the prospect of the possibilities of any journey to encounter the unexpected. Though since I’d really rather not encounter it at this point, I am still going to put strong focus on shiny-happy stuff and hope for the best. I’ve started to also just enjoy the present moment. I can get very focused and pulled away in my thoughts, but I’ve made an effort to get back to simple things, like snuggling with my hubby and kitty in the mornings, and watching the clouds form and move, enjoying the flight and chatter of the birds, letting my mind flow with the motion of the river as the sun glitters like diamonds on the waves, and yes, the snow, even that dreaded thing we avoid mentioning my name here, Snow, and even though on a mundane level I’m just as tired and bored and sick of it as everyone else, I try to enjoy the present glittery fall of snowflakes, experience its cold beauty, revel in its own miracles. That has been good for me, to remind myself that life really is about this. Here. Now. Experiencing a moment, each moment. And also that deep, earthly love from the inner core of each of us is the most important thing there is, and I’ll fight to keep it alive.