My planner for 2014 showed up last week—and not just any planner but one with prompts and pictures and places to doodle. My sister-in-law Carlie has been using these planner/workbooks for a couple of years, I think, but this is my first. Am a huge fan.
One of the exercises was to create a dreamboard of things that speak to you, thing you want to characterize your new year, aspects of yourself, things that inspire you.
I kind of went a little crazy. There are a lot of things I want to do and learn this year.
For those of you bored or interested enough to care, the left side is writerly, the right side personal. One of the other exercises was to choose a word of the year, and I chose the terribly unsexy but terribly important word: discipline.
I used to hate that word.
It made me think of all the authoritarian unpleasantries of life, the unwanted corrections of people who think they know better, rigid black and white thinking. You know. Not my cup of darjeeling.
And I’m hugely happy with my psychic sojourning in the gray areas of life. I like being in charge of my own growth and frittering around until I figure stuff out on my own. Those are good things too. You have to actually FIND the puzzle pieces before you can put them together.
But I feel like I’m sort of there. Like my lap is brimming with all these great pieces of life. I have everything I could ever want.
There’s just some assembly required.
I have to work to make the pieces fit.
I have to stick with it.
Or, as I wrote in my workbook: it takes discipline to make a million bricks. It takes a million bricks to build something great. Do the hard stuff. Make a brick.
(I also make cute babies)
Wow. So I apologize for getting all life-coachy on you there, but you need to know this is a big day for me. I’m the person who successfully put off making an appointment with my eye doctor for over six months. Because it required multiple phone calls to sort out insurance and prescription issues.
I hate making business calls.
Like I would literally rather go to the hospital right now and give birth than pick up the phone. Truly.
Babies are nice.
Also I swear I’m not phobic in general. I like people, and I do leave my house occasionally. It’s just the phone. Gosh. I hate it. Something about the disembodied voice thing. Makes me so uncomfortable (unless I know a person really well. Then it’s fine. Although texting is maybe my favorite invention after the Internet).
ANYWHO. I’ve been making one uncomfortable call per day, and today (TODAY) I finally made the last of them. My appointment is booked. So, yes. If you’re really awesome at life and just zip around all day, CHATTING ON THE PHONE WITH CUSTOMER SERVICE FOR FUN, then this is not the pep talk for you, but for me: Discipline was practiced, and it felt so good.
One more brick for the pile.