Inspiration strikes promptly at 7:30 p.m.

In my post about Fear, I wrote that I think of writing as a practice or an exercise. There might be a goal that I have in mind when I sit down to write something. But the ultimate goal is to is to log the time at the keyboard.

The past two days, I haven't been in the mood to exercise in the morning. I hate to say I'm going through the motions, but the burpees haven't had the same pop. I haven't felt the same grounded presence I typically get on the yoga mat. I haven't been swinging any kettlebells, due to a back issue. I hate to say I was going through the motions, but it felt like it.

But I tend to think that going through the motions is better than not going at all, killing any momentum I might have built. If I skip my hour of morning activity, I will feel drained for the rest of the day. Plus, I'll likely skip two more. Writing is no different.

I had no idea what I was going to write here tonight. I thought about skipping. But I need the practice. And the practice is now a part of my routine, and that routine, like my hour of morning activity, is sacred.