On the morning of January 20th, 2016, I stepped outside and headed to my car since I soon had to be at work. I stopped, however, to observe some animal tracks in the snow.
I was so taken with how the tracks crossed each other, I snapped a picture and posted it on Instagram.
At the time I took that picture, I had no idea on that same night, January 20th, 2016, I would cross paths with a stranger from Nashville while at a restaurant bar in Downtown Naperville.
I also had no idea that this stranger and I would elope three weeks later in Nashville on February 12th, 2016.
I had no idea that three years later, we would be living in Norfolk, CT, housesitting in a quaint New England town, and caring for two dogs that amuse and delight me nearly every moment of every day.
I had no idea Heath would study Spanish in Guatemala.
I had no idea that people would want to pay me to walk their dogs.
I had no idea that Heath would become certified as an EMT.
I had no idea that we would travel 11,500+ miles on an epic road trip to see bears and National Parks.
I had no idea I would spend seven weeks in sub-Arctic Canada in the land of polar bears.
On that morning of January 20th, 2016, I didn’t know any of the above (and more!) would happen. I was simply taken by the idea of how those tracks crossed each other.
When someone asks me if I believe in miracles, of course I say yes. Look at all that has happened in our lives because of where Heath and I were at one moment in time.
Heath and I could have missed each other.
I’m so glad we didn’t.
Heath Hughes, you are outstanding in so many ways. I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.
I look forward to seeing where this next year (and beyond) takes us.
After my death meditation last month, the biggest regret I’m taking with me into 2019 are the writing goals I have yet to achieve. Because some of these goals, like being traditionally published, require circumstances beyond my control, I recognize there is only so much I can do.
At the same time, I also recognize that I did not do my best in 2018 to achieve them.
That’s where discipline as a way to freedom comes in.
I want to be free of the nagging thoughts, the procrastination, the fear that what I’m doing is not enough. So I’m taking the time now to develop a disciplined plan for my writing that, at least on my end, means that by the time we’re celebrating 2020 I will feel more at peace with the work I’ve done.
Since this is a year-long process, I’m devoting January to the planning stage. I’m deciding on my specific goals, then working backwards from December 2019 to figure out what I have to do on a daily, weekly, monthly basis to reach these goals.
For example, one of my goals is to write and submit 12 guest blog posts in 2019, like this one that got published in 2017. I only submitted two last year (one didn’t get published and the other is to be determined). I enjoy writing about minimalism, joy, dogs, libraries, traveling, etc., and I’d like to share my thoughts with a wider audience. This is easier writing for me, then say a novel, so I feel a nice sense of accomplishment when I crank out a blog post in a relatively short amount of time.
How this goal translates into activity, is that I can easily break it down into writing one a month, which means I need to schedule guest blog writing on my calendar for six hours each month, in two three-hour increments.
I was going to keep it at one three-hour increment, but then I recognized that I often underestimate how long it will take me to do something, and I made a change accordingly.
This one act of self-awareness made me feel pretty dang good, as if I really am more serious this time around about achieving my goals, and it’s not something I’m doing on a whim.
YAY for small wins!
I’m also feeling pretty good about my role in this process thanks to a comment made by one of my extended family members over the holidays as we were eating homemade cookies – “I’m awful at self-regulation,” this family member said.
Yes, me too! Although I’d never described my problem as being awful at “self-regulation,” before.
I’ve shared this story before, but I think it’s the best one I have to describe my limits at self-regulation. I was sitting in my therapist’s office, lamenting that I couldn’t keep my room neat and organized. “My clothes never make it into the hamper,” I complained.
My therapist started laughing. She said she was picturing my clothes marching around on the floor. Then she said something along the lines of “Kelly, who is the subject of that sentence?”
“My clothes.” I said this matter of fact, as if it was obvious.
My therapist gave me a look.
“Oh my God, MY CLOTHES.” My whole life came crashing to a halt as I realized I was the one not putting my clothes in my hamper.
I approach 2019 with a renewed sense of what I can do to reach my goals and how the choices I make either take me closer to reaching them or keep me from getting where I want to be.
My life is, and always will be, God and Kelly willing. I have complete confidence in God’s role in my life. Now, it’s time to act like I have confidence in my own.
