Why is it that things that I like to do seem like such a pain in the ass until I end up doing them? I’ll give you a few examples of what I’m talking about:
\nI like to cook, but I haven’t cooked more than a handful of times this year.
\nI like to exercise, but until recently I haven’t gotten out much to do it.
\nI like reading, but I only get through an average of one book every two weeks.
\nI like making clay figures, but I haven’t made but three last year, all of which suffered catastrophic structural failure when I fired them.
\nI like photography, but I don’t shoot as much as I would like to.
\nI like snowboarding, but I haven’t been on the slopes for over two years.
\nI like a clean room, but entropy takes control and matter goes from a state of higher to lower concentration, requiring ever-increasing amounts of energy to clean up.
\nNow that I’m doing these things (I still need to go boarding), I am enjoying them again, even if I’ve fallen out of practice.
\nTake cooking as an example: tonight I am making stew. It doesn’t taste nearly as good as I’m capable of making it, but just getting back into the practice of cutting, peeling, frying, browning, simmering, and reducing, has been therapeutic in a way I can not fully articulate.
\nNow that I’m pushing past my resistance, I’ve already gained the motivation to do things that has been sorely lacking.
\nI think that this vacation was just what I needed. I’ve been back to work for only a day, and already I can’t wait until my next vacation.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Why is it that things that I like to do seem like such a pain in the ass until I end up doing them? I’ll give you a few examples of what I’m talking about: I like to cook, but I haven’t cooked more than a handful of times this year. I like to exercise, … Continue reading