New days

I have made a few resolutions these past weeks – a promise to behave better. To break patterns, to haul myself out of ruts, to be aware... to consciously break habits, to be more alive than I let myself be.

It is not easy. You see, I like ruts. Warm, cosy places. So deep, so reliable, so always. The force needed to affect this inertia is substantial, often more than I’m willing to apply. But it must be done. The rut is not my home. I refuse to die there. Absolutely refuse to do that. So I must move. Keep moving till I come to a stillness.

So I try again every day. Some days are better than others. Some days are worse. But it will not do to exult or despair. There is no point in wasting time on such reactions. There is nothing to do but keep at it. But over time a trend will emerge, I think. More better days than worse ones. And THAT will become a habit, then second-nature. But in calling it second-nature, I make the mistake of taking it for acquired behaviour – such consciousness is, in fact, a return to my first-nature. Chidananda roopah shivo’ham shivo’ham...

So to replace Ann K Schwader’s seasonal haiku...
slow rain —
losing myself in
birdbath circles

...I put up Cynthia Puntil’s hopeful one:
another sunrise
a chance to do the things
I could have done before