Obtaining a permit to drive a vehicle is such a rush for teens. A ready-set-go button you press for independence. It happens immediately for them. Much later for the parents.
We as adults know all too well there is much to learn. Time behind the wheel is required. Exposure to weather elements. Exposure to traffic. So many variables. Corrections, discussions, modifications and so on. Yet for some odd reason teens think their parents know absolutely nothing. Nothing about life let alone driving.
Lord help me: I have a new permitted driver. One who knows all but listens to nothing. It is going to be a long and grueling process for both of us. Many lessons to learn. Many challenges to overcome.
For now I’m working on my breathing techniques while in the car, while the car is in motion, and when the vehicle is stopped. This includes sighs, giggles, OMG and potential curse words. If I focus on breathing I am less likely to do the above which the trainee can feel.
Today’s visual cue is my time tracker. It’s been in a drawer for a good while now as it had served its need for a past project.
Now here we are today, in the present. A new project of sorts has taken flight. A new visual cue and tracker was just what was needed. The timer was set for 180 days or six long months. It was a pain to reset but it worked. It had be dusted off to get ready for the action.
Now the fun part begins. It’s the journey. The 180 days of possibilities. The many triumphs. The possible failures. Basically everything in between. These days are where memories will be made. Progress to document. Trials and errors to tweak along the bumpy road. Adventures will be had I’m sure.
The point to this story is to share my method. My method of holding myself accountable for a duration of time. A timer I won’t touch or change. A timer I will refer to when I need to know how much longer I must endure. How much success I already accomplished just in the form of time invested. It’s a process. This is just one piece of the accountability pie that’s involved in the new project. It’s part of the vision. The intricacies.
Rome wasn’t built in a day. We have all heard that. Millionaires are not born over night. There is a process. Patience is built into the equation. Time is normally a factor. Measurement is a key ingredient as well in any recipe for success. And we can’t forget the planning. You need to have a plan and work your plan.
At the end of the day I’m chipping away at a tedious task-driven project. One I will want to bang my head against a wall a time or two but I will have my visual cues to help me over the speed bumps. One step closer to the finish line.
We all need a push now and then. Today my push is time. The time clock. Not so much a sprint rather a long-distance race against the mind. Who will win?
My money is on me. I only take the sure bets. I’ve said it before: the mind is a powerful tool. Do you use your mind to maximize your time and efforts?
Did you notice the stickers? They add emotions to my visual cue because I know there will be trying times ahead. To combat that future desire to fail or quit, I hope the humor of the emoji stickers will remind me of why I accepted the project. Just a tidbit of my thought process or note to my future self.
Wow October 1st seemed to arrive fast. Quicker than I was prepared for. As did the chill in the air and fall foliage. I’m not sad summer is gone for now. Rather I’m looking forward to final chapter of 2020. The fourth quarter. The last three months of the pandemic year. An easy bye Felicia will be coming from my mouth as 2021 arrives.
The final showdown of 2020 happens in these last three months. We all know it’s been a trying year for many. Most notably due to the pandemic. As I turned the page to October on my calendar I thought to myself I should finish the year with as much vim and vigor as I did when I started the year. Goals in hand. A bottomless cup of fuel to knock out all the goals I put to paper.
Time to say good bye to those extra covid pounds sitting on my waistline. My jeans are somehow not fitting like they should. Time to get moving at a higher level for myself in all aspects of life. I need to hit a few goals in a condensed time period to finish the year with a bang. The pandemic isn’t going to sabotage me. It merely sidelined me for a period of the year.
Let’s go. That’s what I’m telling myself. Going to find some new obstacles. Going to make some lasting memories. Going to try a few new things too. I’m going to write my ending to 2020 the way I do life. Dream big. Live large. Smile often.
How will you wrap up 2020? Remember as I’m wrapping up the year I’ve already laid the groundwork for 2021. I’m a plan-o-gram girl. Getting things done but enjoying life, too. It’s a delicate but needed balance.
Confession time: I am a klutz in the gym. OK, actually I am a klutz anywhere, but it seems to be more noticeable in the gym. Or maybe the bruises are just more obvious evidence and reminders.
First, there were the bruises from learning how to do power cleans. I’d clock myself in the area under my neck, leaving a nice big quarter-sized bruise.
Then, there were the shoulder bruises that clean-and-jerks left when I slammed the dumbbell too hard in transition.
The chin bruises are their own special kind. I may have a permanent lump from doing jumping pull-ups and barely getting my chin over the bar, then hitting it as I quickly came down.
Two other scary ones happened on the chin, too. The first was on my birthday. During the workout and we were racing to do as many shoulder-to-overheads as we could in a short amount of time. We had to break up the sets too. It’s hard to explain, but doing them quickly kept me from having to do more burpees or box jumps or something else ugly. Anyway, one time I cleaned the barbell to my shoulders and then pushed it up as hard as I could, which was great except that my chin was in the way. I smacked myself so hard I saw stars. Thankfully I put the bar down safely and regrouped but what a bruise that was.
The final one I’ll share here was a huge lesson learned (and truly cements my mega-klutz-with-a-side-of-airhead status). In a hotel gym they had a large rack of balls of different sizes. I thought to myself, great, I can do some slam balls. So, I grab one of the bigger ones, lift it over my head, then slam it as hard as I can to the ground. Of course, as you can likely predict, it was not a 20-pound slam ball, but just an inflated hard bouncy ball. It bounced with force and hit me on the chin where again, I saw stars. The lesson here is: first, test new equipment. Second, don’t do new movements in the gym when you are by yourself. I seriously could have knocked myself out.
I love working out, I really do, and my body is capable of way more than I thought possible. But deep inside, I’m still the little girl who perpetually wore bandaids on her skinned-up knees, Dad calling me “Grace” in jest of his stumbly, klutzy, accident-prone daughter. Hope it made you giggle, or shake your head, or some of you maybe feel a little less alone in your clumsy.
It had been a rough day. The kind of day where you’re shuffling online files, trimming, uploading, then re-editing, reuploading in different places, and so on. I spent the afternoon chasing my tail, making no progress.
Finally, I walked away from a project that I had spent hours trying to figure out. I was just too frustrated to finish. It could wait until morning.
I gathered my things and loaded my shoulders with all my bags and other stuff, ready for the relief of an afternoon bike ride, then looked down.
W. T. F.
I looked closer.
A scaly knot on my floor. Curled up. I touched it with my boot and sure enough it slithered.
Again, W T ACTUAL F.
Mind starts pinballing. Heart racing. How do I get it out of here?
Custodians are gone for the day. Don’t have access to a broom and dustpan. I can’t just leave it here. IT’S. IN. MY. OFFICE.
I find a bowl and set it on top of the slithering striped shoelace. Then I walk calmly down to see if a couple of my “country”-type colleagues are still here. Nope, already headed home. So, it’s just me. And the scaly shoelace IN MY OFFICE.
I had to pace to gather my courage. I finally picked up the bowl and there it was, my little sworn enemy. And just like that I
And screamed DIE.
Stop. Was it dead? (Poke).
And finally, I stopped, looked, and it was still.
Scooped it up with a file folder and dumped it in the woods. I was hyperventilating-ugly-crying-nose-running awful. So hard to calm down.
Then the what ifs? crept in. I was in my office with a snake for who knows how long. What if I had been bitten? Or someone else? Too much to think about. Just be grateful it wasn’t worse.
You might be surprised to read that I like snakes. Well “like” might be too strong…I’ll just say as I’ve gotten older I understand their role. I know many of them are good and I just work around them when I see them on the farm. It’s me living in their habitat not the other way around.
Maybe that’s why it was so upsetting to find one IN. MY. OFFICE.
It can’t just slither under the rocks and disappear. It was a showdown. She or me.
Yes, I killed it and it made me sort of sad on top of the other huge knot of emotions. I was a little less sad when I found out it was poisonous, but again relieved it had not been worse. I wondered, how did it get here? Was it born here? Are there more around the corner? Or is a farm varmint trying to stowaway for a quick vacation? More under the car seat? I’m still on the lookout.
Thank goodness I chose boots over Birkenstocks that day.
Just another animal adventure to add to the growing list.