fragile confession.

i woke up this morning, went pee, picked up a deliciously inspiring book, got back into bed, put my new readers on (yes, i am wearing glasses...) and stayed there. in bed. i stayed in bed reading. it's friday. it's a weekday. i read chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, i kept going till chapter 8. i said i would tell no one. uh-oh.

i am holding this sweet & fragile hope that i will do this again, soon. i do not want to wait until i am sick or by a pool in hawaii with a nanny to support this simple desire to feed myself in this way. it's been 8 years of waiting. it's not necessarily trending in our culture to stay in bed and read unless one is on vacation or sick. right? to just stop and listen to my body, to hear what she wants instead of what i automatically do. profound for a healthy weekday morning. no? 

the calendar for today read 'me time' which looks like this: wake up with the sun and/or two children fighting in our bed for our morning 'love' fest, brush baby teeth, brush my teeth, ask kids not to run in the bathroom, stretch super small leggings over my wintery white legs, exercise which means walk vigorously in the neighborhood for about an hour to beyonce on pandora, make a tea, figure out where to write, work on my resistance to write and meditate on how i have such little time for the novels of things i need/want to do (boring story) and hopefully get to work. the only issue with that plan is it's non-stop. it's go, go, go. it's my everyday. 

i am not feeling so hungry for that go, go, go but i keep cutting it up & putting it on the wood board. i keep eating it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. i want more of me and less of doing. i want to eat receiving. you can quote me on that one. i want to read all the books i keep buying. i want to drink the tea in the microwave that i find in there the next day.* i want to listen when my body says 'can we stay in bed and read for a bit?' there is no way i can give, give, give the out if i am not refueling with the in. right? it's an old song usually sung while making a soup. the healing, the in, the inner piece can be found in a hot pot of something. peeling carrots, sauteing onions. this is all true. i heal while creating nourishment to feed others. few birds, one stone.

what if i want to make some new soup? i am hungry for new soup.

then i get all crazy in the club with life, the huge needs, my resistance and before you know it another year has passed. i am going on record to say... i want to get off line and go IN-line... get inside again....nourish all the hungry bits...teaching, inspiring, creating, giving the permission from a place of being a bit more sated inside could get me to that hawaii feeling or just in bed for an extra hour with juicy words and my readers on. i will let you know how it goes. happy new year beautiesxxxx

*going to stop using the microwave in 2014 too*