No sugar- Day 67
As I was getting ready to pour a cup of coffee, I realized that I was standing there with my hand on the sugar bowl. I had mindlessly, instinctively grabbed for it.
As I pushed it back to its place on the counter, I started to wonder just how many other old patterns are buried deep in my muscle memory? And how long it might take to fill in those old grooves?
When we first moved into our house, we kept the silverware in the drawer right next to the stove. It hasn’t been there for over 13 years, but sometimes when I’m moving through the kitchen lost in the rhythm of a recipe, I find myself opening that drawer and reaching for a spoon, only to remember that they are on the other side of the room.
There have been a few times when I’ve mindlessly opened the cabinet door under the sink to toss garbage into a waste bin that hasn’t been there since 1995.
Last week we went to a wedding and as we were driving from the church to the reception hall John said, ‘This the part where we would light up a cigarette.’ That was years ago… Later on in the evening he went outside and stood on the patio, huddled around the propane heaters, sipping his drink, with the smokers.
Old patterns. Old movements. Old habits.
The ones that we’ve let go, the ones that we are certain no longer serve us, are still buried deep within us. The ones we have struggled to give up are even closer to the surface. The ones we are clinging to live on our skin.