Again.

I think I’m starting to see the pattern here. Write, stop, write again, stop again, start again, stop again… The process feels something like running for a long distance (something I haven’t done in a long time). All you have to do is get up and running, run long enough that running becomes the new normal. The same goes for writing. The same goes for a lot of things; reading, working out, going to class, cooking at home, building model ships… You do it until not doing it becomes strange. I think ( I hope) that’s the point where you can be free to flow and go forward with whatever it is you are attempting to accomplish, treating it as a way of life rather than a chore requiring an emotional jump start. I think this is what the are referring to when they say someone has “Hit their stride.

I’m currently trying to get this stride going on a lot of things. I want to write more, I want to write till my fingers can find the keys without thinking. I want to write until I no longer have to go back every few words to correct typos caused when my desire to flow clashes with my technical skills as a keyboard cowboy. I want to read more. I want to read until I can get lost in what I’m reading without bouncing back to check the clock to see how long I’ve been reading. I wnat to stop my brain from calculating how long I should be reading and determining when I’ve read enough and can move on to other things. I want to get lost in my tasks. I want to expose myself to more cold. I want to train my body to withstand the elements, I want to trek mountains in my shorts. I want to wake up earlier. I don’t sleep in, but I want to wake up earlier, if for no other reason than to make time for all the other things I want to do. I want to breathe more, I want to stretch more, I want to live with more intention. I want to eat better. I was eating pretty well for a while, intermittent and extended fasting with ketogenic dieting (with the allowance for volatile controlled caloric binge on weekends). I want to train more. I haven’t been to a taekwondo class in a month.

I could blame things for my lack of doing. I haven’t written more because I don’t know what to write about. I haven’t read more because reading hurts my eyes. I haven’t sought the cold more because it’s winter and the warm is especially inviting in the winter. I haven’t trekked mountains because I don’t live near any, and I have been sleeping longer than I want to. I haven’t been dieting and fasting because of the holidays. There’s too much tradition and good food around to be selective. I haven’t stretched in the morning because I spend that time sleeping. That’s bullshit. It’s not time sleeping, it’s time getting out of bed. I naturally wake up sometime around 4am, but rarely get out of bed before 6am. The rest of the time I just lay there thinking about all the things I could be doing, if I wasn’t still doing nothing. This sleeping thing seems to be presenting itself as the first thing that needs to experience an adjustment.

All the excuses are exactly that; excuses. All the paths to everything I want seem to be paved with the same stuff. Just do it. Do it till not doing it becomes the thing that feels strange. Run until not running becomes an alien thought.

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