Yesterday we launched week three of the New Year. I hoped tuning the calendar would close the book on the implausible horror show of 2020 and let us open the unlimited possibilities of a clean slate. Maybe it’s too soon, but it feels like we are still shaking the detritus of a nightmare from our shoulders.
Historically, Mondays presented a traumatic transition from an enjoyable weekend to a demanding workday grind. But now, normal daily pressures are heavier, and both my mind and my body are weary.
Each day’s activities suck motivation, energy, and passion from my soul. Circumstances do not extinguish their light, they lie buried among the ashes, and we must search to discover them.
No matter how deep I need to dig, I find my guiding lights, and I maintain the item at the top of my list as a non-negotiable. Yesterday I wrote 305 words.
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