How Not To Start Your Day
Just one more snooze. And then another. And then… Oh man, I really have to get up now to prevent myself being sackably late, rather than ah traffic’s bad this morning isn’t it late. We’ve all been there and back then, I was there pretty much every day. And what a way to start my day! I’d reach work with the most evil concoction of brain chemicals going. A scrummy breakfast-substitute of shame on toast, served up with a nice cup of manic stress. In this state, you’ve no way of knowing whether you actually despise this job or if it’s just you. If you work in a fast-paced environment then everyone is a problem and everything is causing you to feel overwhelmed. If it’s not so fast, you’re sat at your desk, your mind constantly alternating between the thought of, which task should I do first, god, I haven’t even started yet, and, I hate this job, I’m so bored.
Making A Change
I’m not sure if I was just ready for a change (cringe) or whether the depression of my lunch being the most exciting event in my day just got too much, but something very strange began to happen in my life; I actually developed the capacity to get up 30 minutes earlier than I had to. Well, actually, that’s not strictly true. I think it was a weekend when it all began. As the gods tend to do when you are actually allowed to lie-in, they woke me up at around 6.30am. Feeling completely awake, and strangely desiring of some exercise, I decided to go for a walk. The river had always been my go-to place as a kid and something took me back there that day. Immediately, as I got out of the car (yeah, I had to drive there, I wasn’t feeling that keen!), the coolness of the breeze on my face blew away all thoughts and I was completely and blissfully in my moment.
My New Addiction
There was no going back after this. And I don’t mean to the river. I went back there literally every day after that. I became an addict, obsessed to the extent that I would even overtake people going 30 in a 30 just to get there on time in the morning. Now this – not my lunch – is my new favourite time of the day. But what do I do in these precious 20 minutes by the water, I hear you ask? Well, not much. And that’s the point. Usually, your whole day is occupied by thinking and doing, and this is the one time when there is no obligation to do any of this. Most days I stroll at my own pace, like I’m a millionaire without a care in the world, crunching through my juicy apple, noticing the sumptuous flavours as they hit my senses. I suck that cool, fresh air up my nostrils and take in the ducks, the fish, the noise of the rustling leaves. The soft morning light tells me that whatever happens in my day I can always return to this.