It’s July.
(Already. How is it possible? Just the other day it was Easter, and before that Corona struck, and somehow, it’s been a year since I returned home from a week in Kenya. Amazing.)
I should be summarizing June based on my intention for the year (with my body in focus), but it will have to wait.
I should be heading to bed, actually…
(Tired.
That’s what I am.
Sitting on the sofa, yawning like crazy.)
And yet.
Here I am.
Writing.
Because… I haven’t written anything today.
Because… I like having the blog post for tomorrow published automatically as I go about my morning routine, getting ready for the day.
Because… once I’d eaten, tended the tomato plants in the garden, talked to friends about a fall event, I sat down to write after nine pm… only to realize I’d forgotten to send a weekly email to a client of mine, a very dear client of mine, so that’s what I did. Instead of writing. For me.
But.
Perhaps because-ing myself is as bad as shoulding myself? Or… perhaps shoulding myself isn’t bad at all? Except when I think it means I have to do something, and that I am bad, unworthy, a lazy no-good, if I don’t?
Perhaps because-ing myself isn’t bad either, as long as I don’t use it to avoid taking full responsibility for me, myself and I, and all the situations I put myself into?
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