Beginnings, middles and endings.
The last few weeks have been a tsunami of activity and have left me bereft and beached on a deserted island without a coconut tree.
For this reason I’ve decided to stop and regroup and look at what is going on.
I’ve made three decisions.
The first involves how I sometimes begin things. I’m ten minutes late, so I grab what I think I might need and rush out the door. My mind is a blur, there is no checklist and I really hope I didn’t forget my keys on the table because if I’ve locked myself out of my apartment I’m screwed.
I’m smart (or so I believe) so I can make it up as I go, right? I have for years.
In short: Nuh uh to all of the above.
This aint my first rodeo so at the young young age of 46 I determine now and forever that not taking the time to plan is like not taking the time to train for a boxing match. I’m going to get my arse handed to me if I don’t do something different.
So the first, oh so insightful insight is: plan. Plan like I’ve never planned before, except with more experience than that. Become known as the plan man. There are worse things.
That’s what I have to say about beginnings. Choose them, don’t let them choose you.
My next piece of self and god help me advice is this…
My mind can travel. I can find myself coming to in the middle of my day (regardless of what I suppose. And I have no recollection of where I’ve been. It’s like I awoke from a dream.
So yes. The power of now. Today is a gift. Etcetera, etcetera etcetera.
Cliff notes: The middle = being present.
And lastly… end of day, or activity. Leave everything where it is, take off. I’m busy. In a hurry, (ten minutes late, remember?) Where the hell did I put my keys, I’ll do it later. Notes in the computer? Forget it, I’ll do it later. I’ll do it all later.
The future me is way more organized than the (not) present me. The (not) present me has shit to do and is still doing damage control for the last thing I didn’t plan, wasn’t paying attention to and didn’t finish correctly.
So the end, in short is to take a moment. Tuck in. Everything has a house.
And if I can write a journal entry a day, and give up bread (sugar, rice and potatoes) then I can do this.
Course the former involved my midlife crisis. Maybe I can convince myself this does to somehow. Maybe it does.
I know this, as a side note and I’m writing this down for anyone who may have had similar circumstances in their upbringing. Love my mom, but she did sometimes have to leave for months at a time leaving me to fend for myself ‘cause I was such ‘good’ kid. My dad was out of the house when I was six and my brother just a year after that, so as role models go I was pretty much on my own.
And my mom, (and she’s wonderful in many ways) isn’t one for routine or patterns, and that includes teaching me how to set up for my day or any of that noise.
So I usually don’t tuck under.
But I will now.
And be present.
And plan.
That’s all I got for now.