Here at Bennu’s, trying to get ready for client work (I do freelance editing, writing, proofreading). It’s taken me a bit. I feel like I’ve dicked around a bunch. But what is wrong with dicking around?
Just who inside me wants to get me in trouble for dicking around? And could dicking around be exactly what I’m trying to move forwards in terms of play and ease? What if I need more dicking around time? Could dicking around be what I need more of? I pictured myself telling my teen that I had already dicked around the other day when we watched back to back episodes of King of the Hill on the couch together when I should’ve been working. That “uh-oh, I’m gonna get in big trouble” voice inside me is hella loud!
What if I can tell it, like Marvyn told me yesterday on our pre-trip consult, I can instead see it as “that annoying friend calling you when you need to write” and you end up writing while listening to their negative chatter.
That annoying friend, he reminded me, is your own inner voice.
That voice that sits on your shoulder like the devil in old timey cartoons that tells you all the negative stuff, or tries to get you to do stuff you know you shouldn’t do. Like for me, procrastinate. Or punishment for playing. For resting. For dicking around. It’s no longer a voice I want to religiously and rigidly follow with rigor. Instead, I’m going to relax, go with the flow like that river Marvyn mentioned, flow around the rock, not identify with said rock, not stop because of this rock, not make the rock into a giant mountain, but instead, go around that rock and keep flowing, keep going. I can do that. My rock can be procrastination. It can be perfectionism. But I will flow instead. Flow right into flow-state, why don’t cha?
Last night was the blue moon. August 30, 2023. The biggest moon of the year. The full moon, I read, is a time of closure. I am wishing closure for one of my friends and the one she once loved. I am wishing closure for the old me who ruminates and procrastinates, who identifies with all my negative traits and tendencies.
What if, instead, I can identify with the warrior inside me? The goddess within? The one who knows just what to do? What if I can move through the day without the drama, mama llama? What if I can identify with my water element, and be like the river, the lake, outside my apartment window, where the full golden moon began to set this morning after I came back from the gym, face aglow with sweat?
Okay, here goes. One small moment at a time. The present moment is all that you have. Here in the present. No past. No future. Just right here. Right now.
In every moment, you can begin again.
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