my virtuous morning.

this morning I got up before 5am. i couldn’t sleep. my nan is in the hospital and i know that she will be waking up in the middle of the night, confused, not remembering where she is. i wanted to keep her company in the night so she wouldn’t be alone.

i did everything i could to open my heart space and to send her all my love and strength. i read. i practised yoga on the floor in the dark. i brewed a pot of our favourite tea. i ran a bath. i lay in that bath, candles lit, and listened to a 25 minute meditation and i floated. i scrubbed away the old and let my fears drain away. i emerged feeling content and lighter. and then, of course, i had to write it all down.

why?

because then no record of my virtuous morning activities would exist. because then i couldn’t seek approval from others about the way i chose to spend my morning and assume my position as spiritual demi-god. i mean, if you didn’t share it on social media — did it really even happen?

duh.

i moved from the bathroom to the study and looked out at the full moon lighting up the dark and i let the next meditation track by tara brach play. i drank my tea and then when the #truthbombs were coming thick and fast i jumped up to write these notes.

why?

because then no record of my virtuous morning activities would exist.

carmen:1 monday:0

duh.

so i wrote. and i wrote. pages. in my bright yellow notebook until i began essentially transcribing the podcast, keen not to miss the pearl of wisdom that opened the door to a day of productivity and moral superiority.

instead, the more i tried to capture the reflections, the more my anxiety started to rise.

By the fabulous Gemma Correll

do you know how i noticed that my anxiety was rising?

well, my abdomen filled with gas and i farted. not a small, dainty, cloud-like fart. a bum-clapping thunder fart.

anyone who knows me, knows that me literally saying/thinking/writing that is akin to some sort of cataclysmic event. most of the time I don’t even acknowledge that my bodily functions exist, let alone write them down for the ‘world’ to see — or let’s be honest, the three people reading thing including, of course, my wonderful mum.

anyhoo, so, my belly filled with gas that hurriedly escaped my body with an almighty bang so as not to let the neighbours sleep through their alarms. i still can’t actually believe i’m telling you this but i am glad i’m letting it out. pun definitely intended. here’s why:

holding things in is unhealthy. it is unnatural. and it poisons you from the inside out. the moment i pressed pause on the meditation track and let go of the compulsion to capture every last word — i felt free. and so did my gas.

i was free to capture these thoughts. free to live today in whatever way i need to in order to survive. and free to just be.

here’s hoping you can let it all go this morning too and let today unfold as it was always going to.

C xx

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