Why is it so hard to get up off my rump and practice?
Why is it the last thing I want to do?
Why is it when I feel so edgy and crumbly and nutty and twinchy I would rather sit on this and eat on that and shit on him and snip at her.
Why on earth do I prefer to stay this way?
Please someone give me the courage to get my-dang-ass downtown on the ground to pray for some holy redemption- or at least for a clean, deep breath.
Dear bloody-brilliant-gnarly-barley all-powerful-one help me to not be so goddamned arrogant that I cannot prostrate myself to your sweet self and surrender to the truth that I am nothing and have nothing without you.
Hear my prayer. And in your love answer.
I’ll get on the ground for 10 min today. I’ll set a timer. I can do that.
Let’s feel better together shall we, let’s lighten up, just for a bit, and then we can get back to the grind.