This morning I have nowhere to be, nothing to do, and no one expecting me. Instead of rushing to make the coffee, grumbling about the dishwasher, and worrying over the clock as I write Morning Pages, I feel light, content, unencumbered, almost healthy.

Stress has not been my best friend or at least I've not learned how to accept it as my guest. This morning I weigh just shy of two-twenty at the end of week I hoped I'd be two-seventeen. I ate my stress this week. I tried to resist it.

There has to be a better way.

Better sleep helps. Last night I went to bed without electronics and fell right into deep sleep. Simple measures. Ben Franklin was right about that early to bed, early to rise stuff.

Writing helps. I rewrote someone else's piece and felt great playing on the court of my skills. In my new job, thinking in solitude with pen on paper brings clarity, comfort, and understanding.

Fresh air helps. Walking to and from work each day, reading outside, shooting baskets, and running all cleanse me.

Timers help. I spend exactly half an hour reading a report, an hour writing a proposal, twenty minutes decoding a budget. I need tight limits on scrolling through YouTube and reading the news, things I do out of habit that don't feel good at all.

Stressed out, heavy, and under-rested, I'm unsure and feel out of balance. Today I have started anew, begun a return to balance, but this is a long game. I'll be at it all year. Hell, I'll be at it the rest of my days. That's okay because I'm curious what's out there and what's within me. I'm in the mood to explore.

I was stressed to distraction this week. I'd prefer to feel healthier, to accept rather than resist stress. Sleep, writing, fresh air, and timers help.

I said there's nothing I have to do today, no one I have to see, but that's not entirely true. Even on weekends I have obligations. It's just that I'm not resisting things so much. That feels like the first step. It feels like a way through. Mostly though, it just feels better.