2019 became round two for reading another 50 books. Well, if I'm being completely honest, I thought that I'd read at LEAST 50 books because, hey, if in 2018 I was able to exceed my goal of 50 and reach 60, why not shoot for the stars?
In addition to my 50 book goal, and likely because, as I mentioned before, of my type A personality, I added another element to the mix. I wanted to get more creative. In particular, I wanted to paint. Because painting was on my "one day" list. Oh, and in case that wasn't enough I also added writing one letter a month to someone I care about.
Sound like a plan?
Well it did to me at the time. And here's how it turned out.
There was the good, the bad and the ugly.
Let's start with the good. In 2019 not only did I reach my 50 book goal. I actually surpassed it again. And this time I surpassed in even more than I did the year before. Yes, I continued to read all sorts of things. The only criteria was that it was of interest to me. I don't care if you think any Nicholas Sparks novel is shitty - I read them anyways. This time around I paid more attention to book recommendations from friends and family as well as books that tended to be referenced within the books I had been reading. Because of this I got my hands on a huge amount of excellent books.
There is one catch though. Part of why I was able to read more that the previous year, outside of becoming a better reader and relying on audio books to fill the quiet moments of life, was the fact that I broke my arm in February after slipping on ice and was out of work for 9 weeks. Yup. On my butt, not able to do much, and unable to drive anywhere. So books kept me company on that couch.
So in the end, I ended up with a whopping 73 books for 2019.
And now for the bad.
Yes, that's right, the story doesn't end here folks.
That part of me that felt overly ambitious in the beginning of 2019 and decided that not only would I read, but that I would paint and write must have had one glass of wine too many. I did get myself set up for success. I got paper, envelopes and some stamps. I amassed a collection of brushes and paints and even a beautiful used wooden easel from a young artist in Toronto (God, I love Kijiji). I signed up for paint nights a plenty. I painted. I dabbled. I wrote a bit here and there. I even did a beautiful water colour while up at the cottage in the summer. But here's what I realized. My goal to paint was and tap into my creative side was very different than getting back into reading.
To do things right I needed time. Time alone. Time in the right mindset. Time in the early morning light listening to quite classical music in the background. And let's face it folks, as a full time working mom that just wasn't going to happen. I feel bad about how my painting goal ended up. Partly because I did give it an honest go. But, it kind of started up and then fizzled out. In part because I knew where I could go with it and in part because I realized that this simply isn't the right time in my life to be doing it the way that I want to. I was able to dabble in this art thing and see what my vision really was. I saw my potential and I recognized the current roadblocks in my life.
Is this giving up? No. I'm just accepting that today isn't the right today for my "one day" dream to paint and do art. But guess what? That's ok. It's taken me a lot of self reflection to come to terms with that. I did get to paint. I did enjoy it and I created quite a few pieces that are worth putting up on the wall. But to reach my goal, I'm going to need to give myself some time so that I have the right kind of space in my life. I think this is reality for a lot of people out there. It's OK, because I know I can do it when the time is right. And more importantly, I will.
As for the ugly. Well, hold on my friend because this part of my personal challenge will take you on a wild ride.
And this wild ride will take you nowhere.
That's right. My writing goal went nowhere.
Nada.
Zip.
Zilch.
Zero.
Well, not exactly. I ended up writing one of the 12 letters. It was to a wonderful woman who at the time was 89. I wrote her a letter about how much she means to me and how highly I think of her. I wrote it. I addressed it. I put on a stamp and I mailed it to her. Yes sir, I did it...but it took me a couple of months to do it.
And if I'm being totally honest with you dear reader, as embarrassing as it is to admit, I found the whole process excruciatingly difficult.
Have you ever tried to write down all the things you didn't have the courage to tell someone you care about to their face? Did you try to put it in a letter and then mail it to them? Well try it and let me know how it goes for you. Because for me it was kind of a disaster. If you are like me, an introvert in hiding, who's terrified of rejection, doing something like that feels next to impossible. Give me another 100 books! Give me 100 reps on the squat machine! I'd rather do that than bare my soul like that again! Seriously, it was HARD. It was an ugly process to see how scared shitless it made me feel.
But what's crazy about this whole thing is that it wasn't all ugly. Sure, I didn't reach my 12 letter goal and writing that one letter was scary for me, but it got me thinking about writing and how I might get back to it in a way that made me feel safe. Crazy that a blog is where it brought me considering it requires me to bear my soul to the public! Wouldn't just one reader be better? Ha! I guess not 'cause here I am baby!
As a matter of fact, I should let you know I received in response a beautiful letter and although I secretly feel panic every now and then that I have somehow irreversibly exposed myself to her, nothing but good has come from that letter. I feel more free in a way. She knows how I feel but didn't announce it to the world and that private moment we had made me feel great. In fact, within a couple of weeks, and perhaps because of what I wrote in that letter, she invited me and my family to attend a gratitude party in her honour (I'm pretty sure it's actually a 90th birthday party in disguise but who cares - I'm going!)
What was cool about my personal challenges of 2019 is that it taught me a few things. First, goals can become amazing parts of your life that continue to grow and develop and lead you to new endeavors that you never had imagined for yourself. You can achieve things you never thought were possible. Second, that the timing and situation needs to be right for some goals so that you can achieve them in ways that make you feel true to yourself. It's OK to try and fail, or try and then realize that some things need to be set right before a goal can be reached. And lastly, some goals start one way and then send you in a tailspin by morphing into something else entirely. That's OK too.
What matters is that you go with the flow and allow yourself to grow with the process.
As I was finishing up 2019 I happened to come across a diary entry that I had written back in 2013. I used to journal a lot, and like reading, that went to the wayside around 2010. What can I say, life changes with kids. Anyhow, funny enough it had a long list of "one day" items that I had identified as areas in my life that I wanted to change and I realized that I had totally forgotten about this list yet I was bit by bit crossing things off of it in 2019. I realized that in giving myself a yearly personal challenge I managed to complete more goals from that 2013 list than I had ever anticipated. Some were a direct result of my annual personal goals (like get back into reading and paint) and some were happy accidents that occurred as offshoots of what I was doing (work on my health and wellness, change my perspective). It was like cleaning up one aspect of my life helped me attend to other areas that were kind of hidden behind the mess.
I wonder what hidden gems this blog will bring me by the end of 2020?
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