The markets rise. And fall.
Creative juices gush. And dry up.
Cycles repeat. And in the mid-term, lazy days...
So easy to get caught up in the excitement as the universe's forces carry us upward through waves of increasing energy, flooding hearts with enthusiasm and psyches with optimism.
So easy to fall victim to our own short-sightedness in the step back before the next two forward.
And in that in-between, so difficult, sometimes, to simply relax in the space where the most appropriate thing is to do nothing. To chill out. Rest. Retreat. Take an extended breather. Recoup.
When did ambition become so revered?
How did we forget nature's pace?
What must it take to remember the beauty of the lazy days?
Those days, the juice runs out.
The bed beckons.
Motivation out for extended lunch.
Smart-mode, on pause.
The most menial, in slow motion.
Netflix & chill.
So the journey goes.
Eventually, night must come.
Crazy, one would go, without the proper sleep every now and then.
Hesitation, or recalibration?
A time out from questioning, perhaps.
Would we ever see ourselves clearly without such space to reflect?
Moments of simplification.
Stepping back from engagement.
So essential, may perhaps be, these lazy dayz...
