When I trace the etymology of a habit, it amazes me sometimes. Nothing comes from nothing, so everything I do has a reason for being. There was a desired outcome at some point in my life and the habit is how I went about achieving it.
Yesterday as I was chit chatting, some of the words coming out of my mouth horrified me to the point of funny. Oh, it didn’t stop the spew, but perhaps it will next time.
That’s a silver lining — the ability to hear the crap I’m spouting and laugh at myself at the same time.
Let’s see how I do today.
Susan Scot Fry, Matryr.
All in all, not bad. Especially late last night when I couldn’t sleep. Instead of trying to talk myself through it, I prayed. This prayer wasn’t a stream of consciousness sort of direct communication with an external deity, though. It was rote repetition of prayers learned in childhood. The main functions were to distract my swirling brain and direct my thoughts outside of myself — like buddhist sweeping, of which I’m a huge fan.
I drifted back to sleep. Now, that’s a great new habit.