Yesterday I had a bit of a lie after a couple of late nights (one dealing with a cancelation for the comedy night on weds and the other getting sucked into a documentary on Charles Bukowski) and was thinking that I’d been pretty productive with my mornings so far since the new year (meditating an hour and playing piano for two hours).

Im sorta on holiday after all (six months in australia) and I thought I’d take the morning off from all efforts to be useful and maybe lie in the garden and read my new book.

Freshend by that gentle thought I enjoyed a late breakfast in the sunshine and felt so good, I decided I’d really enjoy a meditation after all and then spent a really good hour or two not developing my technique on the piano as assiduously as normal, but sailing through my repertoire of vocal songs instead with some confidence and freedom.



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