Welcome back. Happy New Year.
This year is the first for which I have no resolutions. It's not that I plan to resolve nothing, but rather eliminate the false pressure which accompanies unrealistic proclamations.
Last year I resolved to complete a marathon, as well as to complete a book I have been writing off and on for...longer than I should be.
Not only did I not complete a marathon; I never registered for one. The registration process, I believe, must precede participation. Oh, right, and prior to registration one must complete a certain amount of training; I always forget about the training. Actually, I suppose I have completed several pseudo-marathons: they are comprised of short walks to the coffee machine, the kitchen, the garage, and to the front door each morning to collect the paper. Compounded, these jaunts surely, eventually total 42.2 kilometers (26 miles for those who still resist the metric system).
As for the book; that is complete. "Men Get Pregnant, Too. Despite Never Pushing a Watermelon Through a Pigeonhole" is sitting, in first draft form, on a shelf in my bedroom. The most impressive part of that venture since completing the text it the trouble I went through to have it bound and covered at my local Staples….which was months ago.
I have time set aside Thursday to send feelers out to agents and publishers, though a friend is encouraging the 'self-publication' route; I'll need another day set aside to investigate that further.
This year I am declaring: nothing. I just want to get something done. I want to encourage a feeling of accomplishment in myself. The deep dark secret I've been denying is: to encourage that sense of reward, I need to profit more from my free time.
For instance, my kitchen has been unpainted since we removed wallpaper more than a year ago (yes, there was wallpaper in the kitchen, which was less discouraging than the carpet which also had to be ripped from the floor in the same room. See, the previous owner had dogs who slipped on the….never mind); a friend who visits often enough expressed that bare walls such as these would drive him nuts. He would wake at 4am if it meant just getting the job over with. If I were to wake at 4am, I would get sidetracked by movie re-runs on Mpix. Such is my ability to procrastinate.
Sure, I'm busy: young kids, work, & renos all sap a certain amount of energy, and rest is required. BUT, next time I pick up a drill, I may use it to bore a hole in my brain to make room for the following ideologies: accomplishing something feels good; things will never get done on their own.
One tip which I think will be invaluable: I've started to actually schedule time for specific tasks on our family calendar (which hangs in our unpainted kitchen); Thursday reads: "K - Library". Everyone knows it's coming. Not only does this prevent conflicts and distractions, but it makes it more difficult to chicken out.
Maybe we should stop making resolutions which lead to potential disappointment. Instead, what if we just ramped up - even by just one notch - our own sense of determination; acknowledge the need to feel rewarded, and not focus on the reward itself? This, for me, means tonight I should turn the TV on at 9pm instead of 8, and dosomething for one hour after the kids go to bed....hang on...just having a quick look at what's on Mpix.
