Last night my body sounded alarms through a thumping headache and my twisted body. I felt absent, lost in myself. Looking down, I saw my belly, large and protruding. I looked and felt other than I want to be.

This led me to ask, isn't the first step to accept how I am and show myself kindness and understanding? A kind of answer came in remembering the Zen idea that we are all perfect exactly as we are, but that's no excuse not to do the dishes.

I'm doing well at work, learning and coping, developing systems, and coming to understand myself in the job, but this has come at the expense of my wellness. I've so far been unable to balance worrying about being good enough for the job and my health even though I'm better at work when I'm healthier.

Much as I want to snap my fingers and be better, that's not how things work. Instead I'm committing to small adjustments: drinking thoughtfully, returning to decaf, and realizing that sugar is a drug. I'm not giving up alcohol, caffeine, or sugar, but I want to be thoughtful about them. This is me doing the dishes.

Moving my body is essential and energizing, but I'm too tired. I just want to relax, maybe sleep. Instead, I put my feet flat on the floor, sit up straight, tuck in my chin, close my eyes, let my hands rest in my lap, and take three belly breaths. It doesn't release everything, but I felt where I'm tight and can be thoughtful about those things now. That's good practice.

Practice doesn't need to _do_ anything I can point to. Practicing without expectation, practicing in the moment without concern for what I may or may not do tomorrow is an act of balancing.

I have to breathe anyway. Why not make some of them into a practice? Just as with writing, just as when I took my wife's hand as we walked Syracuse's Regional Market this morning, the practice feels good as an end in itself.

Last night's alarms had been warning lights I ignored for weeks as I reacted to other things. I'd prefer responding to reacting. I don't have a solid plan or system in place yet. I just have these practices. I don't hear alarms right now, but I sense the soft tone of a bell, one calling me to close my eyes and breathe, calling me to practice, balance, and acceptance. I'll follow it.