Quiet the Mind

It is a process.  The quitting of things, cold turkey.  Gradually becoming accustomed to the new.  Reading these large, long books is a help, as is the logging out of Twitter in order to catch the instinctive urge to check it, even days later.  Breaking off addictions takes will power.  Wine tonight with the shrimp would be nice, but to what end?  Best follow the plan, booze aboard the SC only for the time being.  I would be out there now, you can be assured, if we were in the water.  Let’s hope next week holds such a warm and steady breeze.

A strange Friday.  I am slipping slowly into the new mood, the idea of letting go of old habits and trappings. Rallying the motivation, slowly, to begin tackling the apartment next week.  For that is the task come Monday, with a deadline of Friday to be ready for cleaning. That and, at last, the ELIADC paper. There is also Trafalgar, if you feel up to entering another contest....  Next week should be a more invigorating one.

I will return to the tree trunk at Lake Banook, discovered yesternight. The temptation is there to bring a bottle, all the more reason to try and bring a meditative purpose along instead.  See how it goes, and report back.

I grow firmer in my resolve as the days melt away.  2020 holds a farewell.  8 is a lucky number, after all.