I feel if I give in to the pull to avoid doing my work I will lose my way. This is a lie designed to chain me to the flywheel of Sisyphus.
Today I don’t feel like doing my work and the more I think about it, the more I imagine myself up in the Sierra’s on a trail run, the less I want to suit up.
Yet I will suit up, get after it, plant the shovel.
I will strike the balance. I will relish in my life. I can. I will. I am.
The man shapes iron into a cutting tool, and does his work over the coals, fashioning it with hammers, and working it with his strong arm. Isaiah 44:12
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me
Black as the pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul.
It matters not how straight the gate
How charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate
I am the captain of my soul.