Alarm Clocks & Witch Doctors

By Mike Johnson

Is it Monday again?
I really have to ask.
Since abandoning the calendar & alarm clock, time lost its urgency.

It’s the same with bills.
I don’t even feel them.
Since abandoning the rat race, money lost its stress too.

Like Forrest Gump, “When I was tired, I slept. When I was hungry, I ate. When I had to … you know … I went.”

During winter here on the mountain, it gets dark & chilly by 5 pm. That starts the natural rhythms to move toward bed. Ease into that cycle & 8 hours later you’re naturally, peacefully awakening at 2 or 3 am.

A quiet, pre-dawn house is the perfect laboratory for writers. A watchmaker gravitates to the workbench. A woodworker to the workshop. A writer to the rolltop desk in the loft.

Like the masses, I start at the coffee machine. Unlike the masses, my commute is a flight of stairs.

Or not. I determine what I do, when I do it & where that occurs.

Horror of horrors, I placed something on the schedule today. An appointment with our neuromuscular medicine woman. Affectionately called the witch doctor. Proactive visits fine-tune our health today so we avoid sickness tomorrow.

She’s in Montana, 87 rural miles away & well worth the drive. We’ll pass deer, elk, wild turkeys, cattle, horses, antelope, sheep & if lucky, a pheasant or two.

Who complains about cruising Wyoming & Montana in the same morning?

Not me. My cells celebrate escape from the rat race every single day.

The key word to this escape was “proactive.”

Proactive visits to the ways of passive income back then, freed me from the captivity of work schedules today.

Deep inside of you, is a person willing to proactively do what's required to gain freedom.

Let that person drive.


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