So. 3:59 Thursday afternoon and I'm sitting around in my PJ's contemplating about a million things, take action on none. My motivation is non existent, it's like it's stuck between being comfortable and being lazy. That's right, I'm blaming my motivation for my lack of motivation.....

What motivates you? Do you even know? Is it fear? Do you do what you do because you're scared of what may happen if you didn't? How about obligation? You're current situation is yours so you stoically carry on. Love? Passion? Empathy? Lust? Greed? What. Fucking. Drives. You.

When thinking about that you need to drop any moral noise that may sway your decision, distract you. You aren't impressing anyone by lying to yourself. Your goal is self improvement so honesty with yourself is the only option you have.

For example, in certain situations I'm motivated by fear. I'm scared that if I can't provide for my kids or something happens to me then they will be alone and hungry, at the mercy of whatever the chaos of existence brings them.

Don't get that confused with love. Love motivates me to look at my kids and melt, to be ready for any occurrence, good or bad, that they may need me for.

That at this stage of my life, I'm saving for their future and not my retirement. My motivation in this example is fear, a fear that is driven by love, but fear nonetheless. Motivation fascinates me, all those different feelings intertwined, tangled together beyond possible separation. Yet still completely unique. Be honest with yourself, dissect your motivation when it is being called into play and you will find the driving emotion behind what push's you.

I'm obviously not very good at , here I am, 4:26 on a Thursday afternoon, in my PJ's, doing not much, not sure if that's irony but it must be close. Who cares anyway? I really love writing, it provides me with a freedom I may never experience anywhere else. Hope too I guess, maybe one day I'll be gifted a novel from the ether, from the womb where all books are born and be able to retire to a life on the ocean, forever chasing the sun. Ahh the fantasy makes a nice daydream, maybe even a book....

When the children and I fled we spent a great deal of time on the road. We had nowhere to go. We spent maybe a week in motels and caravan parks. It was kind of fun at first, the kids loved the caravan parks. There were kids other everywhere and as we all know kids love kids so friends came easy for them. Our routine though was not ideal, no home, running out of money, fuck,fuck and fuck.

We needed a new routine, we weren't gypsies so a life of travel and reading palms for cash was not going to suit us, I needed to work out an improvement. Fast. I knew I couldn't change everything at once, concentrating on one thing would be much more productive and achievable.

Anyway, I've either confused you or given you a little food for thought, both can be fun, I'll get back to mine and the kids stories later, now though, let's talk mornings, yours in particular.

To clarify: Morning means the time that you first wake up. The actual time itself doesn't matter, timing however does. I want you to do something different, change your routine just a little bit. My morning routine used to start with cigarettes and coffee followed by more cigarettes and coffee, on week days this would be followed by the madness of a busy school morning, weekends usually TV in bed. I was killing myself, the addiction to nicotine, sugar and caffeine had tricked me though. See, I loved my first coffee and smoke, really loved them. Not because I was smoking and drinking the finest the tobacco and coffee world had to offer. No no no. I was an addict and like any addict my body had become used to the routine of being pumped full of chemicals whenever my levels became too low. I came to the decision that I had to stop doing this, I was killing myself. The way my lungs felt when I first woke was terrifying. They hurt, not from coughing either, which I did plenty of, they just hurt, like a sore back might.

From previous attempts I knew there was no way quitting was going to be easy. I decided I needed to avoid my main triggers, I had to make changes to my routine that steered me away from those trigger moments.

The first change I made was going for a walk before I had a coffee and a smoke. Usually no longer than 30 minutes and I'm fairly certain they started out being only around 10. Yes I smoked and drank coffee when I got home but over the next few weeks my walks became longer, eventually turning into runs and bike rides. Eventually it was a good hour before I lit that first smoke and my change of routine had started me questioning my habit. Giving up smokes, for most of us, will be the most challenging thing we ever do. It took me years to finally quit although I do still struggle with it now at times, it's fucking evil. For the time being though change your routine in a sustainable manner. When you wake up, instead of reaching for a smoke reach for your shoes and go for a quick walk, smoke all you want afterwards but please, go for that walk first.

Peace people, more next week.