Procrastination: The Culprit

Though I still feel a little shaky, as sure there are unsettled scores, I am now in a convalescent state: recuperating, gaining back my strength, will require some more rest, long meditative sessions, and eventually transitioning to more ambitious sets. Like a fractured bone, my will has been scattered, my goals put on hold. Uncovering the culprits, I see it’s me on every face at the suspect line. But I got to pick carefully, though each and every one of them is me, one of them is the perpetrator, the others just impostors. Or maybe there are all to blame, each guilty of a different crime. However, I think that the one who bears more guilt (such guilt I feel for using this very word) is stagnant procrastination. Yeah, that’s the one. For if there is something I am definitely guilty of, is delaying the inevitable, vegetating on matters of utmost importance, and that has to stop. Bring him to trial, hang him, and get it over with right now. Again, be smoke-free, write for a living, extricate yourself from Isabel’s paws, work out rigorously, meditate, travel, have that dental work, and soar.

Happy Father's Day

And so, I’ve realized, lately I’ve been unusually active in matters that were long postponed or delegated for this or that reason. I undertook chores left undone, and almost daily, I try and find what it is that is there left for me to do with my time. Whenever I find myself idle, or spending too much time on leisure, I put my mind to work on retreating, on abandoning its busy self and once a clearer perspective surfaces, I can pinpoint with precision the root of yet one more task left undone. In the process, I find myself at ease. While exercising, taking up running for the first time in years, quitting smoking, going to smoke and vegetating, I know I am making the balance to tip on my favor. Not one to kill myself, I demand more of myself, and this time away from Elizabeth has served me well. I no longer think it is wise or healthy, for that matter, to continue with this relationship. But I’m not kidding myself: I can’t just pick up my stuff, like I did in previous occasions, and just leave. Though I may end up doing just so, I will plan carefully now. We have a baby and her other son, with whom I share a decent relationship, has afforded me the tools to one day be a great father to my tiny blood line son.
I noticed, however, that I have a knack for misery. I choose to be around people who are not resolved or at least on their way to a higher state of consciousness, unhappiness seems to follow very close in my footsteps and so I must be determined and willing to make away with the past. Not just separate myself from such neglectful scenarios, but to extricate myself, to abandon this sorry affair and get on with the wonderful life that’s springing from inside. Lately, I find myself at ease whenever my older self makes a sporadic appearance, and yet I’m a little unsettled about the unusual bouts of shyness that have recently made their way in my adventures. I look at myself realistically, and I need to still improve oh so much more than I already have. It is an exercise in patience, and that is something I can afford by now. I will tear each and every wall in front of me. I will live the life that I dreamt of or find something strikingly similar to it. And at the same time, I will work on being the dependable, loveable, caring human I am. Because I can do both or three things at once, and I’m finding that there isn’t anything that I can not do if the proper time and focus is paid. So, to you, greatest of guys, have a happy father’s day.