starting today, i’m going to write for at least 15 minutes uninterrupted every day. i’m not going to worry about how clumsy i feel doing it, how good i think it is, and whether it’s something anybody would ever want to read or find interesting. these are the worries that stop me from coming back and just doing the work that feels right. the start of the new year is always a good opening (physically and psychically) but this isn’t a new years resolution or a goal – this is a dream, a whispered desire, a secret hope. just as these posts were meant to be all along.
for the last couple of months, the team i work on has been hyper focused on goal setting. we follow the basic tenets for reaching any goal personal or professional: you must be specific about what it is you want to do, how long you will give yourself to do it, how you will measure progress and how you’re going to keep yourself accountable. many keep themselves accountable by telling others about the goal and almost shaming themselves into action to avoid the consequence of admitting to someone that they haven’t improved. this is a sensible, research supported approach that if i were to be honest feels wrong; as if achieving growth and change this way were nothing more than an odd betrayal of my true nature.
maybe it’s just an automatic response i have to the suffocating notion of accountability that i must admit is essential to a life that refuses to be at the mercy of the id. maybe it’s about how i’ve gotten used to operating: never in the forefront, under-promising and over-delivering to avoid disappointment on all sides. maybe it’s that despite my recent proclivity to over-analyze and over-discuss, there are some ideas, some things i prefer to greedily keep to myself. and behind this greed is a sense that perhaps some things should not be spoken aloud at all; that to speak them out loud would mean frightening things come true and wonderful things can be stolen from my grasp by a passing wind.
piggilliciouss 