It’s Not the End of the World?

Starting new things can feel like the hardest task you ever undertook, and then some. As we’re still sitting in the ‘chaos’ section of my Change Process Wallchart, maybe this is all a bit too much to ask, but honestly there is never a good time to alter course when you possess the turning circle of a supertanker. I’ve got my Instagram 3 x 3 ‘layout’ all set, colour scheme picked for the month. All that has to happen now is appropriate content.

If only that were as easy as the visuals.

Fortunately, this time I’ve learnt the most important lesson early on: you don’t need to write a poem every day if you’re already writing poems elsewhere, every day. LESS IS MORE on Instagram, from what I’ve been able to ascertain. Lots of people just repost their most popular stuff, over and again, pretending it is new, and hopefully this eventually gains that much needed traction going forward.

I can do that easily. It means today therefor coming up with some lovely aesthetics, finishing this couple of poems /points over there and then treating myself to 45 minutes of yoga as a reward. There’s not been enough of that going forward. Looking after yourself really does matter, and as the Apocalypse moves ever closer, I’m gonna get really pissed off if I didn’t take time beforehand to appreciate myself more.

Nobody else is going to do it.

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That’s the constant heartbeat behind all of this work right now: this is for you. Nobody else will care as much about the work as you do. No-one else will grasp significance of those lines. They will place their own interpretations upon the work, because that is what human beings do. If you are lucky, maybe one person in a week will look at something and within them, molecules will resonate.

It is a slow, painful process to find oneself, truly understand what it is you are, and most people are always too distracted to bother. Other things become more important. Distraction beats introversion, because when it goes quiet and all that is left is yourself, there is nowhere left to hide. That’s the reason I know so many people never really consider these issues until it is far too late.

My world has already risen from the ashes, too many times to count.

Oxygen

On Saturday night, after coming back from Somerset (and after a week of fitful kip) I went to bed as per normal, except for the pair of socks I was simply too tired to take off. The following morning, even though I didn’t have a stellar night in terms of hours unconscious, it was better, and has continued to be so, because the socks have stayed on. This morning, it was time to check whether I was imagining this improvement, or if there was some truth in a belief that warmer feet has been helping aid rest.

I BLOODY LOVE THE INTERNET, THAT I DO.

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First hit is this article from Healthline, which would seem to indicate that yes, now that being too hot is but a distant memory, getting my body ready is as important as removing self from computers and other sources of visual distraction. I love it when a cure is discovered for summat that seemed like it could be a problem: all that is needed now is more than eight hours sleep in a night, but to do that there has to be an earlier bedtime, and that’s unlikely at least for the next few days.

Today is already a VERY good day.