Wish I could sing, well. Wish I could dance, well. Wish I felt more beautiful. Wish I felt more comfortable in my own skin.
If I could - would that I could stop undermining my own happiness, success, joy, daily life. No body can get in my way like I can, baby.
Because it's not tiredness or laziness keeping my ass in bed when the 6 am alarm goes off, keeping me from getting up, getting dressed, drinking some water, and going for a run. No such luck.
It's the evil twin, the Gollum, the side of my self that really does not quite believe the hype. The "you're good enough" and so on. It's the part which has a split-second realization that ultimately, getting up at 6 am to go for a run in the cool morning air is going to, um, make me feel good. Make my day start well. Give me some zip and zing. Put color in my cheeks, et al.
And we can't have that happening, now can we...
Right, I say. Awareness of the event, if not the why; if not the almost instataeous process of it all. SNAP and I go from awake - time to get up for a run, to awake - stagnant.
If you meet a person you enormously esteem, and they encourage you with "Courage. Voice. Joy" & that's exactly, EXACTLY the freaking point of it all - what do you do with that?
Stagnate. Fear. Sit in the mud puddle.
Should get up and run. If I could. Then again, if I could, I would do a lot of things, right? Write. Horses. Be present to my life with a bit more enthusiasm.
How then, to get on with it?
