Home two weeks now and finally back into the swing of things. This weekend we ventured around LA, cleaned the apartment, and purchased new items to spruce up the house (including the paisley pillow above – which I’m in love with).
Yesterday I worked out and today I ran 3miles. Last night we went out to dinner with new / old friends. I’m putting a good bit of time into work and feeling out a routine. Tonight we actually watched a movie, which we hardly ever do. My digital sabbatical feels good and I continue to get up each day and write morning pages.
I don’t talk about this blog nor my morning pages practice with anyone. Until last night’s dinner, I don’t think I’ve really ever mentioned either to friends, not even besties. Even though it’s a huge part of my life – 3pgs long hand in the morning, quick blog post at night – I do it for me. As much as I like the idea of writing professionally, especially having a blog that speaks to and supports other people and the art of conversation… I don’t know.
Somehow, the writing is enough.
And so is walking my dog, being out in our neighborhood, riding my bike, running, cuddling with my husband, clean sheets, home-cooked meals, new pillows, a good day of work, an engaging conversation with friends, a phone call with my sister, a visit with my brother, a text from my parents, flowers on the table, a few sun salutations, a perfect latte and watching the ocean.
It’s all enough.
There was a time when it wasn’t because I wasn’t (you only have to go back through the last 222 posts to see my hard-earned progress). I didn’t think highly of myself, didn’t think I deserved all that was streaming past me in each day. How wrong I was.