Two weeks of travel and the morning pages routine got into a once in two days routine and then once in three days and then not at all. Travel does that to one. Habits created and carefully cultivated are edged out for new ones or none at all. I am often guilty of the latter.
Perhaps it was better I had kept up the routine. Because for one, it would have helped me keep track of events, at least in my mind and two, it might have helped me cope with the psychological turns I took during this time.
Now what I feared is come up on me. I can’t seem to pick up my pen to write the pages. The spirit is not there any more. I need an ignition.