Holidaze

It's the travel time, meaning hours spent sedentary. An enchanted time when reality is lived through a rose tinted holidaze.

Rules of day to day no longer apply as you surrender to the hearts and minds of those closest. It's time to take action, I feel passionate again, my workouts are inspired. It's back to clean living and motorvation.Article:

It’s the travel time, meaning hours spent sedentary. It prepares me for the visiting, when I know there’ll be no activity. I try to see it as winding down to jewel up with where our lives have gone in the past 6 months. A semiannual sharing and reflection with family. An enchanted time when reality is lived through a rose tinted holidaze.

Rules of day to day no longer use as you surrender to the hearts and minds of those closest. Conversation, food and wine are intoxicating. You can’t leave the table the conversation is too good. The holiday food keeps coming. I fall back into the silken warmth of family stories and recollections of past years.

I generally eat until I am sated but now… its quest for space, I must keep up, I can’t be that… "I don’t eat that wimp". I can’t spoil this mood and mount up to everyone down to reality! Somehow I manage to find space for that piece of dark nutty sugarplum beckoning me to come home to my pallette, where it would receive all the sleep love and warmth I need to express in this state of holiday bliss. I have now surrendered….. The conversation wonders back to a particular seal that sister in law is passionate involving and as she unfolds its mysteries you must taste and discover. This is no time for excuses.

Feeling good. Eyes wonder out to the put on of snow and everything feels safe and warm. The last place I would want to go is out into the cold (‘reality’ I think). All is swell until that transition day when you walk back into the doors of your own home…. if you can fit.

All the good times, and intoxication are fading into never ever land. I look at myself in the mirror and think

"I did my duty". Then dreamily go into a fond reverie….until I try on those tight jeans!!! It’s time to take action, I feel passionate again, my workouts are inspired. I’m like Rocky Balboa. Underdog to champion. As long as I try my best I am guaranteed results, I can only get altered from here. It’s back to irrevocably living and motorvation.

More than either I think it’s the transitions that are harder than anything. Resisting the surrendering to the holidaze, then resisting leaving them. And it’s exactly this permutation that fuels the fire within. Change, is like a twitch of fresh air. The air causes a conflagration, of fire for inspiration.