I thought I was an addict. So I went cold turkey. Nothing for 9 days.
I let the baby mature, develop and progress; the baby didn’t survive, it thrived.
I realise now I wasn't an addict, I just simply didn’t know another way of living and being.
A friend of mine spoke to me yesterday about the immigrant mentality that some of us grow up with, where our parents come to this country and work hard to earn money to survive, and to gain freedom for the next generation to thrive.
Yet, the smell of the cycle feeds into the atmosphere. A conditioning that dictates this is the only way: to fill every hour with another bit of doing, at the expense of being. To think every missed hour is a missed opportunity.
The freedom that we work so hard to gain, only manifests into yet another prison in our mind.
In the last 9 days, I let the baby grow. But more so, I let myself see.