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Satisfied and relieved that I stuck to duty:

Took a shower; read from Mindfulness in Plain English; drank my herbal tea; did Range of Motion from Peggy Cappy's video--just the intro before asanas; meditated for 30 minutes; and let Pickles out after setting up the bedroom. She's a pistol today.

I feel, under the surface, angry, resentful, some kind of ongoing aversion... I know what it's from: the prep I have to do for the chronic pain and illness; and I know, too, it's a kind of immaturity or refusal to fully face what I've been going through since 1999; still, some part of me expects it to end somehow:

I'll find the answer, the cure, and I'll get to live a more normal life, meet goals and get back to working on "a" manuscript--fuck "the" manuscript; I don't care; I'm no longer "there" for that one, but writing?

That's a hard one to give up along with the rest.

And today I'm allowing myself to notice the aversion, and whatever else comes up: Unpleasant and real.
 
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