I’ve been trying to get this bullet journal thing down.
I love having to-do lists, and when I did a weekly list in university I was usually very successful in getting things done. In theory a bullet journal is just extending my weekly lists into monthly lists. I have also learned a lot about the things I need to do more regularly to keep myself healthy in the past 10 or 12 years.
The list gives me the opportunity to remind myself daily of things I need to do for me, and look back monthly to see where my focus needs to lie.
On my list are exercise, flossing, taking my meds, drinking more water, and writing. Every day. At least 500 words. These are things I now will keep me at my best.
These are things I’ve managed to make into habits before. These are things that will get me where I want to go.
Every great writer has told an audience about the need to write every day. Some of them have page counts, words counts, time limits, but they all talk about forcing themselves to sit down at a blank page (or screen, I guess, these days) and put something down.
I used to write every day. All day. It used to flow out of me. Stories and streams of consciousness and pure ideas that I had to write down before they could escape. And then life.
My writing habits changed drastically when I went to journalism school, and then back into an academic-style of writing (though I was always, always short on the word count). Somewhere the young girl who wrote fiction and poetry fell away.
Sometimes I get a glimpse of her. Right now I can see her. Because I have an idea. I have an idea that’s been fermenting for a few months now, and it is almost time for NaNoWriMo. These two things have come together to give me an excuse to practice my craft. A craft I love dearly.
And the other great thing about writing is that to get really good at it, you also have to read. You have to find books and devour them to learn more about yourself and where you’re going.
This year I have read a lot. I have experienced a lot. (So much, in fact, that I thought something that happened one year ago was two years ago. It’s been a time).
And now I have something percolating and it is my time.
1,667 words a day, 30 days, let’s go.