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Sleep
Most important. Over and over again, it is always sleep. Nine to ten hours a night.
Most important. Over and over again, it is always sleep. Nine to ten hours a night.
I feel unsafe around filth. I can handle so much more mentally when my home is bright, organized, scrubbed, airy, and decluttered. When things work.
I keep getting on it and then thinking I am healed enough to quit. Just like my supplements. I need a mostly raw diet to be my best, sunshine self.
Not just a yoga stretch here and there. Not a hike once every two years. I need a program that builds on itself and supports my fitness for the recreational expression of my best life. Something that supports the hikes and the horseback riding.
My medicine. My healing.
Not just on horseback. Also in the mountains, also on the water. I am nature. I need to be in it.
Time with them. It will never come back. It is so vital to my soul it hurts, because I want to claw on to every moment so overwhelmingly that I sometimes retreat from it because I get overwhelmed.
It demands one hundred percent of my attention in a way television cannot. I could be watching five screens and never achieve that level of focus.
Journalling, poetry, prose, essays, anything. It is my art form. It is how I find out what I think, and how I make the inside legible to myself. Nothing else does this work for me.