Yesterday morning I woke to daylight and a warm bed. I consider myself a lucky person. However, after a moment my chest tightened as I started to enumerate the activities planned for the day. I rose out of duty and with a fog of anxiety. I hurried through the house and its minor disasters toward the shower and a begin to a busy day.
There were activities that must be completed. I had to work. I had a few household chores to complete. I had shopping to finish and dinner to plan.
I had banking to do. I had work duties that required attention. Friends were calling asking me to coffee. I felt obligated to check the news, a mistake. News stories described cruel crimes by humans against humans, natural disasters, and celebrious hijinks. I refocused myself toward work of the day and left the news feeling powerless and melancholy.
After rushing through the day in an self-prescribed regimen of busy work I reached my home to find my mini-disasters remained mini-disasters and that they unceremoniously dotted throughout the house. I set myself to cleaning, dusting, sweeping, and scrubbing.
With the cleaning completed I only had dinner to plan and execute. Dinner came together in a frustrating fashion after I realized that I missed an ingredient. I looked forward to my reward in a Netflix binge of a television series. By 11pm I was tired enough to attempt to sleep.
This morning I awoke to daylight and a warm bed. I almost immediately began formulating a simple day for myself. In my head I worked through how I hoped my day would reveal itself as in a manner of the curtains at a movie theater unveiling the screen. I looked forward to seeing my day unfold.
I chose to not check the news. I chose to hold the work hounds in my head at bay. I chose to focus the day on myself: my health, my mind, and my spirit. The Sirens of work began to call to me with text-dings and emails-beeps. With a deep breath I thought through the absolute necessities of the work day. I planned to meet those immediate needs as a first priority. I happily gave the morning to work; my afternoon was reserved for my health and I worked out, the reservation for my mind manifest itself in meditation and deep breaths, and my spirit took flight in a long walk in the hills of a nearby forest.
Dinner was small, simple and lovely. My simple evening consisted of music and reading. At 10pm I stretched before heading off to bed. I laid in the dark room and in my warm bed thinking about the past two days. I decided that I was my own worst enemy. Day One could have been Day Two had I the conviction to attend to myself. I slept like a log.