It’s February 1. So How Are We Doing?
Why, oh why, do we do it? This biting off more than we can chew? The grand, sweeping statements. Their lack of substance echoing through the canyon of our future months.
Maybe it’s mob mentality, the fact that everyone in the world is feeling that same good morning, fresh, clean slate of January 1st — and everyone is maybe believing that something different might be possible, without us having to do very much. But it’s not.
On January 1st, I picked up my blank organizer (something I’ve used successfully for years), and started shyly filling it out. Not really believing my words, but feeling the importance of saying to myself in writing what I would like to establish in my life.
To my credit, I have meditated regularly every day for weeks.
And I have followed through on going to the gym, signing up for weekly training. And I’ve been journaling — though not every day, as intended.
But I’ve noticed something faulty in every day of my dayplanner so far.
Routinely, I underestimate the time needed for a task, or I underestimate how tired I’ll be at a certain time of day. And I keep doggedly writing down jobs to do, creative endeavors I want to nurture, without consulting the ‘reality’ of how it went down the day before.
Why do I ignore this data? Because I so want to be the person who did all those things. And when I write them down on the next day, it’s almost like I’m doing them. The problem shows up at 10:30am, when I should have about three major tasks already behind me and I’m only approaching the first one. In fact, not even. I have to finish breakfast first, then do the dishes, and then I’ll be ready for the first one.
I need to clean this up (see image below)…and I’m writing this blogpost instead, because I said I’d post every Wednesday and it’s Wednesday but I thought it was Tuesday, and this happens all the time.