I have a problem.
I cannot relax. And I have realized it right now. I’ve always thought maybe it was because of this or that, but no. That this or that is me. There are no forces fighting against me being able to relax from time to time. It’s me.
It’s not work. It’s not family. It’s not that I don’t have time or that God doesn’t provide me a window to relax and look out of. It’s not that He doesn’t give me an opportunity to relax. It’s just that I can’t. It’s me.
I’m here. It’s Sunday. I’m alone. No one around, just me and my freedom to chill. There are no distractions, no anything. Why am I contemplating going and grabbing a book to lay down? Why am I thinking about grabbing a pen and paper to lay down and relax?
I don’t need any materials to relax in bed. Reading and writing are my vice, yes, but I don’t need them to relax right now. I need nothing to relax, but the mindset of relaxing. Nothing needs to be done right now.