I suck at “productivity.”

My mornings are anything but a miracle.

I've never belonged to a 5 am club.

Or 6 or 7.

I feel bad for not doing something wonderfully life-transforming by 8 am.

Should I though?

I don’t know.

I don’t do anything miraculous in the morning.

I don’t do anything period.

I sit there.

Alone with my thoughts.

For a few good minutes.

Not dreaming.

Not daydreaming.

Not meditating.

Just sitting in the stillness.

I want to sit there.

Shouldn't I find excuses to not be still?

I better get busy “being busy.”

Did I schedule this meeting with myself?

Should I allow this stillness instead of doing the next productive thing?

All this -- as I just sit there.

I close my eyes.

I notice how imperfect it all is.

Imperfectly focused.

Imperfectly serene.

Perfectly imperfect.

Eff productivity.