Two things threw me off my practices. A better rider than me might have kept her seat, but alas alack, I did not. One was my back attack - the fact that I was away at the time might have made it even more so but I lost my daily sitting practice. And then my trip to Ontario finished the job the back had started. It is hard to sit in places without my usual routine - my shrine and books and candles and the view from my window down through the trees to the shining glimpse of the bay. My coffee and the time I have set for it.
On top of that being set off - it is physically hard to sit with a tetchy back. But enough of the whinging and whining - I'm back sitting and will make it my discipline again to sit daily for however short or long a time.
My writing has also suffered these disturbances. Probably for different reasons, although I'm not as handy at writing away from my office as say - Elizabeth Spann Craig. I think the reason was more of this gigantic relief at hitting a deadline - the picky edit and the switch to third person - that I finished two weeks ago. I did revise on Tuesday with Gwen but I'm not back at doing it daily.
That is going to change. I'm picking up my self from the soft duff I fell onto, dusting off my dungarees and getting back on that glorious horse called Discipline.
The danger, of anyone falling off any wagon or horse or habit or discipline or virtue or resolution - is to abandon all desire to get back up again. Why should we? We will just fall off again and it is so pleasant down here on the ground. Granted it is dusty and boring, but we can't fall off the ground can we?
And I can distract myself with knitting hats and lace and so on, or watching West Wing episodes every night with my dear guy, or inviting folks for dinner so I have to clean and cook.
How do I overcome my lassitude? By telling you lovely people of course!
Now I must go out for a walk with Hoagy who gives me no end of grief if I try to get out of that good discipline...