Fail!

All it took was one day. One day of deciding to just go with the flow of the day. And I lost what I had gained the past two weeks.

One day without exercise. "I'll shovel the snow and call it good," I used as my excuse.

One day without writing. I told myself, "I'll do it later."

One day without doing anything productive around the house. I didn't even try to talk myself into feeling better about that one.

One weekend at home. By myself. With myself. And I fell right back into the comfort of doing nothing. In fact, I believe I revelled in it a little bit.

I forced myself out the door to buy groceries yesterday. I had hoped that would start the ball rolling and I would accomplish something after I got home. I didn't.

It felt so good at the time. "I need this down time," I consoled myself.

I was so very wrong. Doing hard things is the key to maintaining my status quo. Maintaining my contentment. Maintaining my "happy".

It's never too late to start over. I believe I will try to salvage the morning by finding a "Slim in 6" YouTube video so I can pump some oxygen into my malnourished brain.

I will try to write better tomorrow. This morning? It was simply an exercise of discipline. To put me where I need to be to nourish what I found.

Don't forget what works for you. When you abandon ship and take the easy route, remember how much better you felt when you did hard things. 

P.S. The entire weekend wasn't a wash. I found laughter within my solitude. An auto-correct during a text exchange with my brother lightened the moment and I laughed all over again the next day, when I reread our conversation.

Then I watched snippets of Mom's 80th birthday program. It was a most excellent day filled with family, friends, laughter. Though Mom was not on camera, you could make out her answers when my brother quizzed her on some little known facts. Lastly, her thank you. Hearing her voice saying these words found a special place within my weekend of solitude:

"I have to thank you all. You've just been great. And you are a wonderful family and to think I'm kinda responsible for it, is the sad part. Apart from that, thank you for coming and the wonderful singing. And that's it."

"Is the sad part" ... did Mom have a hard time taking credit for the qualities she liked about her family? I wonder about the meaning of that little self deprecating comment. Mom did not give praise freely and wouldn't want anyone to think she was taking credit for the way her family turned out. But it slipped out anyway. She was so appreciative of who we were to her, to each other and I think she thinks we turned out okay. I think...