breaking routines

Letting go of routines on the weekends is supposed to be a treat, a reward for being self-disciplined throughout the work week. So why do my ‘treats’ so often bring me grief? I let myself sleep in on the weekend and I get out of bed feeling guilty so much of the morning is already gone. I choose not to have my regular breakfast and I’m starving before I’ve decided what to have and how to cook it. I allow myself the freedom to not write this morning and I get grumpy.

It doesn’t always work that way. A break from not going out to work always feels like a treat, no matter what I do with the day. And when I get to sit outside to listen to the quiet spring air, and smell the sun-warmed pines I’m very satisfied that I’ve done something special.

I have this sneaky suspicion, though, that my happiest moments don’t come from treats. I’m beginning to think they don’t come from not having to fulfill obligations, nor from resting, but from putting out some creative endeavour. I’m most buoyed up and energized I reach that ‘aha’ moment when I’ve achieved some insight or feeling, from writing or creating music. Then it’s easy to feel I’m entitled to a break and easier still to goof off or even, heavens above, to wash a few dishes.

But since I put myself in my studio every morning, weekdays included, searching to express myself, labouring to get to that ‘aha’ moment, how do I treat myself to time off for good behaviour? I love treats!

Don’t I?

I make myself another cup of tea while I ponder that.


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