this morning’s view
We’re almost three weeks into our month long sojourn in Florida, and the warm sun and balmy ocean breezes are working their magic.
First, I’ve only had two interrupted sleeps in the past three weeks. Instead, I’ve been sleeping straight through the night until about 6:30 or 7:00, which is my preferred wake up time. This is phenomenal in every way. Poor sleep has been my norm for decades. I usually get about two nights of decent sleep in an entire week, and lately I’ve noticed it taking a higher toll on my energy and emotional well being.
Guess what? The “experts” are right when they say you need to sleep.
Now I realize what being rested feels like. It feels great.
Second, I’m writing easily and more frequently. I’m not sidetracked by housekeeping or errands or other stuff that demands my attention at home. I’m excited to write, which is even better. My mind is busy on the morning walk, mulling over things I’ve read with coffee (usually taken outdoors in my favorite corner of the lanai, listening to the palm trees whisper in the breeze) and I’m ready to come back and start putting things on the page.
Guess what? This feels great too.
Third, and probably most importantly, I feel peaceful. I have a sense of rightness about life in general that not even Donald Trump can ruin. This is an extremely unusual feeling for me. I am what the Yiddish call a Zorger - anxiety ridden about one thing or another. (Hence, my inability to sleep.) The origin of this current state of peacefulness is a mystery. Nothing has changed in my world, or the wider one either. Nevertheless, something has changed in me.
Guess what? Yes, it’s great.
Here is the challenge: How do I take this feeling home with me? When there’s six inches of snow on the ground, the skies are gunmetal gray six of seven days a week, and wind chills are in the single digits, I fear all these great vibes will disappear (see, I’m zorging already.) I know my emotions and energy are susceptible to the seasons and adversely affected by the persistent darkness of winter.
My Writing Rehab taught me that harmony between mind, body, and spirit is essential to being creative and productive and peaceful. After the past few weeks, I realize how often I experience life as a bundle of anxiety, powering my way through the day. I want, more than anything, to keep the flow of peaceful, creative energy that’s settled over me here like the warmth of the sun.
I’m about to take myself out for a walk in the morning sunshine and ponder some ways to do that.
Hoping wherever you are today you feel in harmony with yourself and your world.