The Fruits of Laziness

There was a week there [or two] that I watched and allowed myself to engage in some unskillful coping habits.

I watched as much tv on my phone literally as I could. fuck screen time weekly reports btw.

I pretty much stared down my chocolate allergy and laughed in its face. I ate chocolate even when I didn’t really want it… why? Because I was doing whatever I wanted.

I knew there were better choices, and I did not care to make them.

I was drinking port for God’s sake. (I barely drink at all… but Port?!)

I drank matcha lattes from Starbucks and got addicted to caffeine in a week. I have a withdrawal headache as I write. I find the pressure in my head as delicious as it is exhausting.

I also noticed:

It was WORKING for me. Pacing me at a time when I had to wait anyway. Resting, enjoying a little mind-numb.

A little life-support for my imagination.

When this all got predictably yucky was just before the energy was about to shift. I also hadn’t been actually fully checked out , I chipped away at what I could for what I knew was coming; I got ready, then I screwed off.

I dealt with it. The energy shifted. I had a breakthrough in my visions and now I’m activated!

Because of my conscious lazy period, I had a new respect for the pacing of an unfolding project.

Today was full-on momming and biznass lady. A long week with my daughter culminating in a Halloween party where my daughter wanted to hide out in the back room with me and play this game she made up where she controls my hands and tells me what to say .

Then home alone after a majestic drive & aligned business call, after getting off of a dreamy call with a new friend, I ran a hot bath, got a pumpkin pie in the oven (shake the last bit of salt out of the bag thank goodness I didn’t throw away) and then slid into the tub, where I also dipped figs and celery and sourdough bread (I cut the mold off of ) & sweet peppers in fondue. Drank vermouth.

Yes, fondue. Yes, vermouth. In the bath.

I mean, who is she anyway? Whoever she is, I like her.

A creative service blossoming is about to unfold.

love,

Saeri Wilde