Habit is persistence in practice.
Yesterday’s quote from Octavia Butler made me wonder about habits. What I persist in and why. And as a believer in practice, what should I practice? What habits have I created? What could grow from the past 31 days?
I came to the March daily slicing challenge after a long period of not writing. Wary of the stress that daily publishing and commenting could create, I was on guard. Protective, I suppose.
I was surprised to find the work a pleasure.
I managed to banish my inner critics, Brilliance and Failure. For some reason, I don’t know why, I let both go. Most of the time. It’s not to say, I didn’t have moments when their cousins Perfection and Doubt threatened. But most days I allowed myself to ignore them.
Perhaps it’s Vanity that has waned, knowing it lives in an imaginary place.
Stepping out of March and into April, I’d like to think a habit has started to form. One that dismisses criticism that gets in the way of doing things that create an interesting life.
And on that note, what follows is my attempt at “a golden shovel poem” for the final day of March 2021.
I question my landscape, searching, to attach value, to identify a habit
worthy of pursuit. Does it require ability to sustain, or, is
knowledge a deterrent to dreams? Is persistence
bequeathed genetics that conjure tenacity in
spite of fatigue and obstacles? Or, is it faith that compels the spirit to practice.