We're living in unprecedented times. No need to list the reasons; we feel it. A collective unease permeates everything. This global "body" we share is under immense strain, and it's taking a toll on our individual well-being.
My cherished morning ritual – waking before dawn, journaling, reading, sometimes even meditating – has been hijacked. Instead of solace, I'm wading through a daily onslaught of news and anxieties. It's a kind of delicious self-sabotage, isn't it? That pull toward the very things we know drain us.
But I'm reclaiming my mornings. Why? Because in these times, self-care isn't a luxury; it's survival. And because, let's be honest, we all have a bit of a rebellious streak. We’re drawn to what we’re told not to do.
Beyond the political turmoil, the relentless pace of modern life erodes us. Information overload without meaningful engagement leaves us with shallow roots. We learn quickly, but we don't integrate. My "Slow Down Manifesto" reminds me: engage deeply. Journal, meditate, discuss, write.
Participate with knowledge, don't just consume it.
This daily battle against the relentless current is a constant David and Goliath struggle. We’re often fighting ourselves. We resist the very habits that would nourish us. Why? Perhaps because they feel like… well, like work. Like denying ourselves something.
What if we flipped the script? What if we acknowledged that little voice that whispers, "Do the thing you're not supposed to"? What if we redefined "sin" as the things we want to do, but struggle with?
Imagine: making it a "sin" to not journal for 30 minutes. A thrilling, forbidden act of self-reflection. Making it a "sin" to say "yes" to that shiny, distracting project, instead of honoring your deeper goals. A delicious act of rebellion against the urgent. Make it a "sin" to rush past the beauty in the mundane – to ignore the shimmering puddle on the sidewalk.
By reframing our "sins," we tap into that inherent human desire for a little transgression. We unleash the inner rebel, directing it toward habits that truly serve us. We make self-improvement a thrilling, almost illicit, adventure. And who doesn't love a little bit of that?
Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash