Do you ever notice that year after year we make the same old New Year's resolutions? Topping the list are vows of weight loss, exercise, saving money, finishing old projects, or maybe even finding a new job. I believe goals keep us motivated and most of us find self satisfaction once they've been achieved. My question is: Why do some goals get left on the tread mill? At the beginning of the year we're hungry for change and sit down at the table starved but end up too full to finish. Our goals end up like left overs pushed to the back of the fridge—out of sight and out of mind. Perhaps our eyes were bigger than our stomaches. So this year maybe when we chose our resolutions we should order a la carte instead of a full entree. I'm going to limit the amount of goals I make and focus more on the ones most important. This year I'm going straight for the dessert table...and publish my book!
Earlier this week, I thought about writing and why I started in the first place. In school, I loved to write reports, essays or anything that involved some sort of creative writing. Writing was something I enjoyed that I didn't have to work very hard at to get good grades. Some teachers would let you out of class to enjoy free time if you finished your writing project (providing they were happy with it) and that was a—dangling carrot. Years flew by and I wrote here and there but mainly to advocate for my disabled son. When he passed away the house went silent and so did my pen. Then one day I visited my parents and listened to my father's recollection of his thrashing days. Later that night, I dreamt about one of his shared childhood memories and I woke up knowing what would make me happy. I wanted to write realistic stories that I wanted to read. The only problem now—facing the dreaded computer. Before 2008, I rarely had the opportunity to lay my fingers on a keyboard. I certainly didn’t have the time or energy to sit down and give it an honest try. I’m not complaining. Like most of us, I had other things in my life that took priority, but my love for writing pushed me on. I admit in the beginning, I was scared of my computer. I didn’t think it would eat me alive, or something silly like that but I feared the permanent damage I could inflict upon myself and the rest of the world. If I’d only known then, that without the access code to home land security or the FBI files, everyone was safe. But that irrational fear was nothing compared to the fear of appearing ignorant. It seemed like everyone had gone to technology island and I had missed the boat. I’ve come a long way on this cruise but I have much farther to go before I’m to where my fellow writers have docked. I'm comfortable enough these days with the computer and I hope to continue learning how to use it. I now often think about how it was for writers years ago using the old typewriters. They had to be so deadly accurate with their thoughts and words or had plenty of white out handy. Thinking about them, I feel blessed for technology instead of fearful of it.