A spinach stacked omelet is what I'm making myself today, as a boost in power, from this flu I was attacked by over the weekend. I'm feeling better, just so weak and ridiculous. Opening a jar of jam makes me feel like I might poop. My body is exhausted and full of sissy, so I'm kickin' it Popeye style.
I think I'm going keep throwing down these mental exercises for myself, as I have to admit that without the incentive, I don't really think much to write. Writing is good for me, and I need it to help me slow down, pick up in other areas, and think differently. The trouble is that I lack focus, terribly; an indicator to my anxiety.
Dishevelled hair, slacky posture, wrinkles across the brow, and a pair of two-day-old socks typically make up the outfit when I'm not at my best. Before I sit down to do one thing, I carry on to the next, and the next, and the next, I boil the tea pot and drink water instead, I refrigerate my keys on a semi-regular basis, I lose my train of thought in the middle of a sentence, I forget my lunch on the counter time and time again. It is difficult to stop and do absolutely nothing at all, but I'm learning it is necessary. My 4 week old twitch, in my right eye, told me so.
To slow down my racing mind, I've become more conscious of what it is that keeps me grounded even if taking the time may feel a bit selfish, unnecessary or impossible. It is the simple stuff that works in the long run, even if it's for only a few moments in every day. I'm learning to slow down and let these things back into my life. I need to take more advantage of time by actually enjoying it. It's okay to do nothing at all; my twitching eye told me so. This is an interesting challenge.
Self advice for practicing Zendyl (a more zen form of myself): Time is only an excuse. If you have the time to shit every day, you have time for yourself.