so... it's 10 30 on a Saturday morning and my plan had been to be juuuuust getting up now, easing into the day with some good toast, good jam, good coffee and perhaps even good company.
I've been up for hours though. Running around doing various things I promised I would and until about 10 minutes ago (when I sprawled out on this couch after switching on the fire (is that fun or disturbing to say? i can't decide which) armed with early morning chocolate fix) I could hear my heart pounding exhausted in my ears as I walked back and forth down Elizabeth St in the cold meeting this person and that person and going about general duties. Not that I don't love that. I do. But this morning was meant to be slower.
Point is though, I used to hate slow. HATE slow. Which I maintain is the reason behind my love of coffee. The faster one goes the less one thinks, basically. Plus franticness serves as good motivation when you have none. Translating into doing things better, making better choices and all around having more energy when slower, but having more of your own thoughts rather than a to-do list stapled to your edgy jumping spazzed out noggin.
Now, though, I love slow. I love my own thoughts. I love that I love them. I love being lazy. I love that I don't need caffeine for motivation because I have enough of that on my own. Love having time. All of it. So this morning I realised how much I appreciate mornings and moments that I might have hated years ago .
And right now, being still is heaven. Even though it's not going to last. Because soon there are things to do, uni work, escapades to shops, other Saturday things. But the fact that it's fleeting just makes it all the more tasty.
Turtles have it right. They do. I'm going to follow their slow lead for the majority of my time now, I think. Living to 100 I guess they had time to learn a lot about life..
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