Sorry about that… I, um… forgot to write at all. I’m even a tad embarrassed by that, particularly since I carefully plan this time, and follow through quite methodically most days, even to the point of occasionally questioning the value in doing so. Then… Well… There’s this. This is different than that. I quite honestly forgot… like… a bunch of times, and even in spite of some reminders (several).

My habits sometimes break. It’s “a feature” of my TBI, as near as I understand it, myself, anyway. Sometimes I just… wander off without some habit or routine that I reliably practice. Even after years. It’s a thing. A quirk. I’m… quirky. lol. I “always” was, I just didn’t also understand that experience (and so many others) in the context of my TBI, that came later. I had other reasons and excuses, and ways of understanding myself, and I suppose they also served my humble needs for as long as they lasted. I’ve even learned, over time, not to beat myself up about my quirks, my forgetfulness, my challenges – I mostly just look that moment over with great care, and a desire to understand both the circumstances and the outcome with greater clarity, and to learn from it what I can, and move on from there. Life doesn’t have to be some sort of frenetic, punishing endurance race, or some lengthy proof of worthiness. How much better (immeasurably) has life been without all that entirely extra not very helpful performance pressure? I mean… who made those rules, anyway?

So… yeah. I woke up some days ago, and… didn’t write. I noticed way later in the evening, and I was too tired to take that opportunity to write, at the end of that day. Then, the next day, I made some excuse, or slept in a little bit, or… just wandered off. I enjoyed a lovely weekend – so lovely – and today was a fairly routine Monday. Today was the day I realized my writing habit had broken, rather odd for it to be that habit, but… there it is.

The morning started off rather peculiarly, and perhaps that what it took to get my attention, that a valued practice, a habit that serves a purpose, had broken? I woke feeling fairly groggy and sort of… unstuck in time. I found myself going through all the motions of the routine morning routines, only, strangely out of sequence, and rather random. I’d barely gotten through some yoga, a shower, and dressing for the day, when I was stepping out the door with my keys in my hand, and heading to the car. That’s super odd; I don’t do mornings in that hurrying-to-work fashion anymore. My days are built around a leisurely start. What the hell? I spent the morning drive into the office musing about how strange it was that I’d broken my writing habit. That I’d also broken my leisure mornings habit didn’t hit me right away. I didn’t notice in time, or with sufficient ability to connect all the dots, and I was already parked at the office when I really understood that I had literally gotten ready for work and departed immediately… it wasn’t even 5:00 am, and I was already at my desk. I hadn’t had any coffee. I was definitely on auto-pilot. I made a promise to myself that I would take a break “a little later” and write, “sometime after I’m caught up…”

…Many hours later, having utterly forgotten about writing, my work day ends, I make the drive home, I arrive safely at my residence… still no writing. I had forgotten about it completely. Well, shit. Okay… I sit down and I write. About not writing. lol That may seem odd all on its own, but without so doing, that habit would remain broken, potentially even permanently; I’ve gotten to know how some of these quirks work. I’ve wandered off from all sorts of things over the course of a lifetime… lost things that I’d carefully put away, made astonishing changes in my life, ended relationships because I somehow… forgot about the whole thing.  lol Just… forgot. It’s more than a bit aggravating, and fairly unpredictable. So, I do the needful thing, and reinforce the desired behavior. By doing the desired behavior. In this case, I sit down and write. lol

Quirky’s okay. Broken, too – even broken is okay. Sometimes what we love and make use of most can’t easily survive the wear and tear of our affection. Things break. Even habits. We fix, repair, rebuild, re-purpose, modify, alter, adjust, adapt – we do what is needful. I mean, when we know what that may be, I suppose. I don’t mind being quirky – it turned out, perhaps not so surprisingly, that a great many of the things I am well-regarded for, loved for, or entertained by, myself, are “quirks” I might not have, if I didn’t also have the challenges, injuries, and experiences that I’ve had. 🙂 I rather like this woman I see in the mirror, these days. I’m okay with her quirks.

It’s been a long-ish journey, and not all of it has been pleasant, but it’s mine. 🙂

I’ll just begin again. 😉