Four months have passed and the weights I’ve picked up are not the ones next to my gym bag.
It bothers me.
I’m out of a routine that no longer works
And the dust won’t settle so I can find the new path.
Do I need to find a new flame to fan to clear the air?
A purpose, a person, to prompt me to get to work and sweat it out to feel better about myself?
I give myself grace (funny how “grace” sounds like excuses): I’m in a new home, new surroundings, I have to find what’s convenient, oh look- wine…
Deep down I know the real answer. I have to get out of my own way. When I’m ready
I’ll unpack the extra cushion that’s been protecting the most vulnerable parts of me.