My Reveries journal published on a Saturday instead of Sunday because I have lost sight of what day it is in the soup of consciousness between Christmas and new year.
In Australia this time is often marked by the murmur of cricket on the television in the background and a looping thought of what might be constructed from the leftovers in the fridge for dinner.
I was active earlier – a morning run, a morning swim in the surf that swept me to the north so I drifted with it and walked out on the beach further up.
Now I’ve surfaced from a mid morning nap that seemed necessary.
And I’m a little uneasy with the feeling I should be doing something productive
But also I’m not quite remembering who I am.
My Substack post may may more sense.
Merry not quite 2026 yet.
