I’ve suffered. Weighted vest instead of a cilice. Toiled before an unforgiving sun. My hands shake from punching. Lower body sore throughout. A migraine failed to dissipate. And the dead tiredness I pined for, remains plainly obscure.
So I surrender to my wakefulness.
I allow myself to be alert.
As the sun sets, I sit in silence. Meditative.
Tomorrow I will try harder.