Tag Archives: free writing

On getting derailed from a healthy habit

It’s amazing how easy it is to get out of a well-established habit. (Kind of depressing, actually.)

There was a point in my life where I got up at 5:00am every day. By choice.

This now seems like my worst nightmare.

But at the time I lived with twelve girls and I reeeeaaalllly liked to get my shower in first and have some quiet space to myself. (What’s a half-introverted girl to do?!)

When I started this blog it was for many reasons. One of them – the main one – was to help establish a healthy discipline of regular, free writing.

I happily did this every day for six months. (It was very, very rare for me to miss a day.)

Not only did I do it every day, I LOVED IT.

Then the force that was our July hit and I just couldn’t do it. (Fine, there’s grace for that.)

But now life is back to normal and I’m finding it sooo hard to get back to the every day.

I want to – I love and enjoy writing! I have time to – who can’t find 5 minutes in “normal” circumstances?!

So….. what’s the problem here?

I’m not sure.

But it’s a little frightening for me to see just how quickly and easily a well-cultivated habit (discipline) can be derailed if we’re not careful.

What’s a goal-oriented girl to do?

Well, keep on trying to get back on track I suppose.

 

Q for you: Surely you’ve had a good habit fall to the wayside at one point or another. What helped you to get back on track?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.

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Life, unedited.

The clock ticks rudely and I never realized how loud the fridge really is.

Muffled laughter seeps in from the neighbors and I can hear a train several blocks away.

It’s noisy here in the quiet.

My house is a little messy, but it’s clean under those toys, thanks to Rose.

On the shelves sits a plant starting to droop, asking for a drink. I forgot again today. Even looking at it now, I think – she’ll be ok until tomorrow.

There’s a printed out calendar sheet on the fridge at waist level with big green numbers counting down the sleeps until we “take suitcase on pane to ‘merica”.

Several boxes of ziplock bags are stacked in the corner containing blades and gloves and soap and things that one might see as “stuff” and another might see as a chance at life.

A small pile of baby clothes outgrown, folded neatly on the chair. Ready to fly to an island to be traded for fish so they can clothe Jesus there.

My eyes blur, my jaws clenched (again), and my shoulders raised too close to my ears.

I think about the bathtub I hope to one day have.

Relax. Breathe. Sleep. Those things have been hard lately.

But there’s a strange sweetness in the struggle. Prayers in the form of one and two and three-word pleas.

He answers, you know.

I wait for it.

But sometimes the wait is hard.

And sometimes cookies really do make things better. (I never understood comfort food before. But now I want some cookies.)

He answers, you know.

 

STOP.

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five| Five minutes a day, unedited