Every Cycle Has a Crack

I’m like just about anyone else. I fall for what they’ have to say. They say if you do. . . , they say . . . . . You know them—the experts who have wisdom to spew on every subject.

But I’m slowly coming to recognise they can be such liars. Take this perky piece for example: Want to create a new habit? Then repeat the action for twenty-one days.

That is such a lie it has an odor akin to heated up compost.

Like dieting. Man-wonder and I followed the GI Diet for over a year. If that isn’t long enough to cement it into our gray matter, what is? But, no — we managed to shed most of our new habit, though I have to admit parts of it have hung on like the wrappings on an old leftover piece of candy.

Did we create a half-habit? Is there such thing?

Another fine example is this blog. I’m been doing it faithfully for fourteen months now. Should be engrained, right?


Woke up this morning and thought OMG—how did Wednesday get here? It’s almost five a.m. and I have zilch. Should I blame it on Christmas? That’s not likely since our Christmas this year is so low-keyed it’s almost non-existent.

Maybe blame it on Mom’s dementia?  Nah. I find writing a relief from that stress.

Maybe I just own an amazing  deep-rooted ability to shake off healthy habits. Maybe I’m just destined to always vacuum up the bad ones and hold them snuggly close.

Methinks more meditation may cough up the answer. Now, if I could only make that a habit. . .

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