Saturday morning, fresh from a meeting, and as I drive home unstructured time lays out before me; through the windshield and across the hood like an unfolded road map. Frozen farmland and gray-blue everything else whiz by, its sameness impossible to blur. I glide along in silence, the shocks of the sedan softly bouncing me along as I am propelled forward into an unplanned afternoon. Up my spine climbs doubt and uncertainty. How am I going to handle my day? They plan on setting up camp at the base of my neck.

Today and for the rest of this month, I’m going to learn to like myself, or die trying. I’m going to concentrate on the positive things – not in my life, but in me. I need to learn, accept and know that me, alone, is enough.

Me, sitting still, doing absolutely nothing, is enough. That’s a sentence I’ve never believed, and still struggle to accept. Aren’t there things I should be up and out and doing; things that will validate my life and tell everyone, “see, I’m not a total loss”?

So I busy myself. I rearrange shelving and what’s on them. I clean the garage. Again. For this alcoholic, to stop moving is to focus, to focus is to dwell, and to dwell is to fixate, and it’s never a sweet fixation.

What needs to dovetail with my daily lulls are my affirmations. I needn’t be looking for compliments, or a particular sense of accomplishment. I need to be concentrating on me, my breathing, my center, my well-being. These are things I’m entitled to, and need to truly believe that.

Today: Understand that down time isn’t depression time. I’m okay sitting still.

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