If the river leads always to the sea then one day, I suppose, around the next bend, things might open out considerably.
I guess that is hope.
Yet again on my morning dog walk I talked to myself.
Negative self talk is such a burdensome beast.
And well within my control if I stay mindful.
But, so often I forget.
Ingrained patterns, lifelong habits, even when they do not serve you well, are hard to break.
One thing I learned last year is the power of gratitude. As a practice showing gratitude for even the smallest thing has the power to shift your focus like no other practice that I know.
But like every other practice one does actually have to practise.
Again forgetfulness. Though sometimes I wonder whether it is more an open act of rebellion. There is some comfort in those known old patterns.