Time management with a simple timer

20160706_112252When I was in college, and our apartment got very messy, my four roommates and I would occasionally call a “mad minute”.  We would set a timer and blast some music, then run around putting things away. Being five girls that felt we had better things to do than keep our apartment clean, this was an effective and painless way to make it presentable. With a timer set, we knew the cleaning up session had a definite ending, and therefore we were all willing to jump right into the task.

Decades later, I’ve rediscovered the power of a simple timer. As we all know, starting something is often the hardest part.  It takes our brains anywhere from five to twenty minutes to be fully immersed in a task. Up until then, it’s a bit of a struggle; we’re resisting, our minds are elsewhere, and if feels a bit like slogging through mud- thick, heavy, and not very enjoyable.

Several minutes into the task though, we are fully engaged, in the flow, and unaware of time passing.

I bought myself a timer that I keep on my writing desk. When I am resistant to sitting down to write, or more often these days to edit, I use the timer. I just have to do it until the sand runs through. When time is up, I’m free to go.

What usually happens is that once the time is up, I am fully into the process and don’t want to stop right then.

But I could stop, because time is up. Knowing this is what gets me started.

The timer can be used for almost any task: cleaning up, going through paperwork, writing, studying, or exercising. I’ve even seen timers for kids’ teeth brushing. They are two minute timers shaped like little teeth with smiley faces . Clever!

I ordered my timer on amazon.com where there are a multitude of timers that range from   $5 to $50.  They come in all colors, and there are vintage styles, cherry finish, hand-blown glass, crystal and benzaro metal timers. You can find a timer from one minute to an hour. I chose a thirty minute one.

It is fun to pick one out that serves your style and needs. Or maybe it’s just me. I have a thing for timers. What else takes up such little space, looks appealing, and can pack such a punch in the time management area of life?

What ever it is you don’t feel like doing, just do it. 

Better yet, time it.

 

 

50 days ’til 50

In fifty days, I will turn fifty.

Let me just say that I loved my forties. I still feel like I belong in my forties.  Warm and comfortable, cloaked around me, forty-nine is a good fit.  I’m not ready to shed it, to stand shivering at the threshold of a new decade.

Fifty does not sound natural to me, not at all. It sounds like an age someone else turns. I’d rather not claim that birthday, thank you anyway.

But of course there’s no choice. So rather than arriving at my fiftieth year with my heels dug in tight, I’ve got to prove to myself it doesn’t have to suck, not even a little.

It can be graceful and powerful.

It can in fact, be even better than forty-nine.

I know it’s up to me to make that so.

I know the best antidote to aging is just to keep getting better. Live better, eat better, do better, and feel better.

Be brave.

Do our best.

Shed the layers.

Another birthday reminds me that there is no more time to waste.

I will not watch the video of Horambe the gorilla again, in horror.

Nor will I watch another interview of Trump, with equal horror.

Or spend energy loathing anything that I cannot control.

Or generally waste copious amounts of time.

I will not accumulate unnecessary stuff.

I don’t have room for any of that, in my mental or physical space.

I’ve got stuff to do.

Words to write.  Things to say. People to love.

 

20160608_134237.jpgYesterday I went through our book shelves and finally parted with all of the books from my children’s adolescence.

Then I organized my writing books and afterwards claimed a spare room, tucked away in our basement.

I wasn’t sure how this new space would feel, because I‘ve gotten used to writing in our dining room. I can see out the window there; an animal, a neighbor, the school bus stopping across the street. I see when the mail arrives and when someone is coming to the door. If someone else is home, I see them, hear them, and engage in conversation.  My dog meanders over to his food, my husband makes his lunch.

It feels different in this new room, something like meditation, when I settle in. I don’t hear any sounds other than the humming of a dehumidifier. I see nothing in front of me but my words.

Seclusion is like a carpet laid out for my thoughts, an easy place to fall.

It is uncensored by the density of movement or noise.

Inviting to the soul.

It feels right.

And maybe that’s what will happen with turning fifty.

Maybe it will just feel right.

 

 

Yesterday’s post: https://musingsimplicity.wordpress.com/2016/06/07/love-and-choices/

 

 

 

 

 

Love and Choices

13239029_10209299243580885_6529252908657338580_nTime is marching on a little too quickly these days.  It’s nearly summer and I hardly remember spring, except for my middle daughter’s wedding, the highlight. She and her fiance chose to have a small, private wedding which took place outdoors. It was beautiful and special and a perfect reflection of their love for each other. My daughter’s mother-in-law captured all of it on  video, including the sisters’ speeches which made my heart swell nearly as much as the ceremony did. I’m waiting to receive  the link to this video to share with family and friends who were not in attendance.

And speaking of missing family members, when we first heard of their desire for a very small wedding, I felt a twinge of disappointment. What about all our loved ones who would not be there? But I think we’ve raised our children to “think outside the box” when it’s right for them, and this was one of those times. So in time, I usually feel a sense of relief when they exercise this right. I like to know they are doing what they think is right for them.

One thing I’ve learned from parenthood is how little I know. We can love them a lot and listen to them a lot and guide them, but ultimately it is encouraging our kids to follow their own inner guidance that is the true task of parenthood.

My youngest daughter told me that some of the best words I ever said to her were these:

I don’t know.

It’s your life to live.  What do you think? 

She said it left her with a sense of empowerment and excitement about her own life.

It’s a good reminder. I’m just a parent. Our children are each on their own unique journeys. I don’t want to play God with that.

I love you  and I don’t know.  A suitable parenting mantra, I think.

And the  one and only piece of advice I recall ever giving my daughters about love was this:

Choose someone who loves you a lot.

Life throws enough curve balls and challenges. Your love life doesn’t have to be one of them.

***

Tomorrow is fifty days before my fiftieth birthday, which has inspired me to write exactly that post, tomorrow.(50 Days ’til 50). I considered a series, posting each day leading up to this birthday, but alas need to spend the time editing my memoir which I promised myself would be much more polished by the big 5-0.

Always having to make choices with time; such is life. But getting older makes me increasingly aware of this- that I am in fact making a choice at any given moment.   I guess conscious choosing  is a byproduct of adulting. Maybe that’s all life really is; one choice after the next. Even when things happen to us, we still get to choose, what now?

See you tomorrow!

P.S. *Please visit the site of Sarabeth Matilsky, a most adventurous mom of four. In her latest letter, she takes us through the decision to sell her home and travel with her family, and  details  the massive clearing out that took place.  In a very short amount of time, she got rid of 95% of her family’s possessions. Bam. Now that is how you get it done:  www.lifeisapalindrome.com

Clearing a path for the good stuff

If you take care of the small things, the big things take care of themselves. You can gain more control over your life by paying closer attention to the little things.  –Emily Dickinson

What are the little things?

Drinking water.

Getting enough sleep.

Decluttering.

Eating a healthy meal.

Keeping only what you love.

Breathing deeply.

Exercising.

Replacing the button.

Cleaning out the fridge.

Hanging the picture.

Buying the stamps.

Thinking the good thought.

Doing the paperwork.

Planting the vegetables.

Saying the kind word.

Donating the stuff.

Pausing.

 What are the big things?

Inspiration.

Clarity.

Insight.

Healing.

Hope.

Decision.

Peace.

Fulfillment.

Joy.

Freedom.

Success.

Love.

Creativity.

Truth.

Ideas.

Courage.

How does taking care of the little things lead to the big things?

Everything in this entire universe is made up of energy. Food, thoughts, stuff, etc.  This is not a new phenomenon. This is not a New Age theory or an unscientific guess. This has been true for all of eternity.

Einstein reported that “..both the physical plane of our reality of matter and the abstract reality of our mind are made up of energy patterns.”  Every cell, thing, thought, word and morsel of food has a vibrational frequency.

There is positive energy and negative energy and neutral energy. All of it is easy to decipher. How do you feel after eating something? Doing something? Saying something? Thinking something? Being in a particular environment? What adds to your energy, heightens your vibration, and what takes away from it?

Doing the small things cleans up your energy, raising it in order to attract the energy of the the  bigger things. Like attracts like.  Doing the small things creates a magnet for the bigger things. It opens up a pathway. It unblocks us and sets us free to discover our limitlessness.

How simple is that? Just do the small things. One by one. Day by day. Moment by moment.

Clear a path to the big things. You can feel it.

Making room for the big stuff.

But I wasn’t finished with yesterday

Contrary to the proverb, March came in like a lamb and out like a lion this year in New England.  Hopes for an early spring were dashed by late snowfall.

Its a good excuse to put off spring cleaning though, and hunker down like an indoor cat to get more writing done.

Last month’s writing workshop in Boston left me with more valuable information and connections than I could have hoped for. Besides, hearing and talking about books and writing all weekend long, with other people who wanted nothing more than to talk about books and writing, was glorious.

In addition, I received the encouragement and resources to go ahead and get my book proposal done.  A book propossal is easily a fifteen page document, and I was  looking forward to starting the process.  But with the culmination of any significant event, like the weekend workshop, I needed time to digest before moving on.

It’s like having a gourmet meal;  upon finishing, we don’t immediately move on to the next meal. That’s how life can feel; the good, the bad and the mediocre all have to be absorbed, and preferably  with adequate time in between. I prefer to feel like I’m having a fine dining experience, or at a delectable buffet, rather than being a pig at the trough.

When I’m overstuffed, I feel a little sick, uncomfortable, rushed. I want to assimilate everything at a pace that feels natural, and preferably write about some of it. For me, writing it down really cinches the experience.

But upon returning from the writer’s workshop, it was time to prepare for a Moth story GrandSLAM.  I was thrilled to get to participate in this next stage of the Moth and wanted to give it my best. At the same time, it was difficult to keep feelings of fear at bay. I told very few people that it was coming up. Writing a story down is one thing, with many chances for corrections and rewrites, but live storytelling is quite another experience altogether.

Fortunately, it went well and was a great, albeit nerve-wracking, experience. Besides telling my story, I got to hear eight other fabulous stories, each of them unique.

My only regret was the ten second brain freeze I had on stage. Well my husband says it was only ten seconds. Another storyteller said it was ‘forgiveable, no big deal’. Maybe they are being kind. It felt like an eternity to me. The silent space, as brief as it may have been, was long enough for thoughts to rush in. Thoughts like these:

Oh no, Im not speaking. 

If I don’t speak now, things could end very, very badly.

I could pass out and have to be carried off the stage.

I thought my period was almost over. Why am I suddenly gushing blood down there?

Am I hemorrhaging?

Speak! 

Moments like this making me grateful for any trauma or setback  that I have suffered in the past. I know I’m resilient.

That mental space of even if the worst happens I will survive comes in handy when on the brink of utter failure or humiliation.  In a way, it makes you untouchable. It stops the bleeding.

Seconds later (or was it minutes?) I harnessed my story from my hijacked mind, and it flowed out, thank God. As usual the audience was wonderful, but the most touching comment came from a young man who looked to be about eighteen.

“I needed to hear that story. Thank you”, he said, which made the preparation and the nerves and the harrowing brain freeze all worthwhile.

So as I have been assimilating the events of the past month, I have gotten behind on some things like emails and phone calls and laundry and blogging and editing.  But I’m catching up now, and ready to take on the book proposal, and hoping I can get it done as quickly and as surely as the sun is melting the snow.

I am reminded of a time when one of my daughters was in Kindergarten.  She appeared to be daydreaming intead of preparing for the day. I told her it was time to get ready for school today.

Exasperated, she responded with this:

But I wasn’t finished with yesterday! 

And I knew exactly what she meant.

Overstuffed.

 

 

Writing Clutter

Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, Instagram, LinkedIn, Google+, Vimeo, and blogs.

Oh my.

The options for social media for writers (and others) is mind boggling. Dizzying. Overwhelming. businessman-clear-junk-his-head-31524952

Here is how it begins.

You write some articles for a few online and print sources. The editors of these sources expect you to promote these pieces on your own social media sites. That drives traffic to their website.

But who wants to read entire articles on Facebook? Or Twitter? But still, it’s expected that you share.

Speaking of Twitter, did you know that Twitter has an option called TweetDeck for organizing and managing twitter lists and connections? I like lists! I like organizing.

But for now, I am still trying to figure out what the hell I am doing on Twitter. I’m not ready for tools. It’d be like gathering the hammer and nails before I know what I am building.

How does anyone follow hundreds, if not thousands of people? How can anyone possibly read all those tweets? I know, I know, they don’t. But what do they do? The answers are available to me, but I am busy writing. Or trying to.

But I must divide my time. Update and manage Twitter every four days, or something like that. I really should get on that.

And there’s that LinkedIn account that I barely remember creating. It just sort of happened. Like an unwanted, neglected child, it is the accident whose care I am  half-assing. Oh the guilt.

And is it too soon to create a website? Perhaps that is best done after a book is published. And is the website necessary at all if you have a blog? Probably. Because the blog won’t have links to articles. Or will it? Should the blog be moved to the website?

So many questions. So many good answers. I need to get on that. All of it.

I read an article that had this message:  It is not your job to babysit your writing once you publish it.

Finally, something to let go of!

And in theory, I agree. Once you hit publish, forget about it! Move on to your next writing project. Some people will like it and some won’t, every single time, and it’s not really your business to care.

Write. Publish. Promote. Ignore the rest.

But but but…if I hadn’t checked on an essay I shared on Facebook, I would’ve missed the thoughtful comment left by an old friend that I worked with twenty-five years ago, thus missing the opportunity to respond. That would’ve been a tiny bit sad.

Some of the “babysitting” of our work is just being a human.

I love writing.

And since I typically believe in my writing, I don’t really mind promoting it.

But we live in a time that encourages much more social media promotion than face to face promotion. It is more efficient. It’s economical.

Don’t get me wrong, I like sitting behind my laptop. Writing is a solo activity. I can barely tolerate  the radio being on when I am creating. Too many voices.

But I sort of prefer promoting (if we must call it that)  in person; reading my writing aloud, or just speaking it aloud to a live audience who is there to hear some stories. You know, like the way writers used to do it.

Fortunately though, some of it can still happen that way, if we want it to. We may have to create our own opportunities to do so, but what’s a writer without an entrepreneurial spirit?

I was at a writer’s event recently, and when the topic of social media came up, the man next to me, who was also middle-aged, looked pained.

“Do you have a Facebook or Twitter account?” he asked, hoping I’d say no.

“Yes, I do. But…
I wanted to convince him that it did not have to be painful, not really. That you can pick and choose your sites, and how often you use them, and..

“I hate all that”,  he replied. “Maybe I should just quit now.”

And I am pretty sure I saw him give up his writing dreams, right before my eyes.

I don’t think J.K. Rowling was promoting writing all over social media before she published the Harry Potter series. I have the impression that she just quietly wrote her literary sensation and then later, perhaps, her staff put up a twitter account while she got to work on her next best seller.  Why can’t we all be like J.K. Rowling?
Sometimes I think social media is just one way the universe is conspiring to take me away from writing, because writing is an unnecessary, frivolous endeavor that begs to be interrupted.

But other times, I think writing is the air that I breathe and a means of connecting us all, and that I will never stop, as long as I am able.

I am going to another writing conference next month. This one will be led by a senior literary agent from Writer’s Digest, and one other expert, a best-selling author.

Day two of the weekend-long event will be dedicated to “positioning your book for success in today’s difficult publishing climate”.

Part of that will include helping us to navigate this maze that is social media, and to organize and prioritize our writer’s brand. And they  will do it in person. In the flesh. Preferably while holding our hands.

After the workshop, I will put my media ducks in a row, and lift my head to the surface, the place of starting to have it all figured out. From there I will continue writing. Or breathing. It’s all the same to me.

Time for chores

This was published in Huffington Post today: 

20150610_081629I keep coming across articles about how Millennials are making serious attempts at living simplified lifestyles. From pared-down wardrobes and weddings to pared-down homes, they are aiming for lifestyles that reflect meaning, experiences, time and relationships over stuff. If this is true, and there really is a quiet revolution of minimalism happening among this generation, then I say this is good news. Good for them!

After all, life can get complicated and cluttered enough, without inviting the added stress and chaos of too-muchness.

Perhaps as children, many Millennials witnessed stressed out parents working too hard to pay for bigger and better things, and now they want to live differently. Or maybe many of them were overscheduled or overburdened with too many resume-building activities while growing up, and now they want to take back their time.

Maybe their desire to simplify was born of these experiences or maybe not. It’s possible that there is a minimalist trend in much of society now, and Millennials just happen to be the ones being watched. I don’t know. I didn’t do the research, but I am interested in any trends in minimalism, no matter who the subjects are.

In addition to their newfound reputation of becoming minimalists, Millennials have been dubbed self-centered and possessing a sense of entitlement. Personally, I think such a generalization is unfair, but if there is any truth to it at all, aren’t their parents partly to blame?

Perhaps some of these kids have been raised with the belief that the universe revolves around them and their over-packed schedules, while the mundane chores of life magically get done (probably while their parents should be sleeping or relaxing), or they don’t get done at all because who has any time left? It’s just a theory.

There are chores in life. Lots and lots of chores. Food needs to be purchased and prepared, and cars need to be maintained and toilets need to be scrubbed and bills need to be payed and finances need to be organized and pets need to go to the vet and laundry needs be done and dishwashers need to be emptied. Rugs get vacuumed and trash gets put out. Appointments get scheduled and drains need to be unclogged and papers get filed and mail gets opened and birthday gifts get ordered and thank you notes get written.

If kids don’t partake in any of this while growing up, they won’t factor in that they actually have to leave time in their lives to do the stuff of life. Chores. Maintenance. Cleaning it up. Getting it done. Letting them believe that all of this just magically gets done is not serving them well, in my opinion.

In fact, it’s a lie.

All I’m saying is, perhaps along the way some of us forgot to factor in all the time it takes to get things done that are required to live a decently organized and grown up life. Or we forgot to let the kids bear witness to that, let alone have them take part in it.

There is work to do, often tedious, annoying work, and it must get done within the twenty four hours that we have in a day.

So as far as I can tell, it’s not only okay, but pertinent to sometimes say:

I don’t have time for that.

You don’t have time for that.

Because there are the chores.

Because if dinner doesn’t get cooked, we are going to eat crap and I prefer not to live that way.

Because if I don’t put the laundry away today, it will come out of my writing (or working, or playing or fill-in-the-blank) time tomorrow.

Because if this doesn’t get done now, it will come out of my sleep and if I don’t get eight hours sleep, I will feel lousy.
Maybe the Millennials have figured it out now. Perhaps they have become painfully aware of the limits of their resources; time, money, and energy. No wonder we are watching their tendency toward minimalism with interest. They seem to be absorbing a valuable truth at this time: their life really is about them. The choices are theirs to make. That’s not selfishness; it’s awareness. And time? That’s all theirs too. It’s on their side, after the chores are done.

Snowed In

My favorite things to do while snowed in:   write, cook, and organize.

 

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Something so satisfying about seeing and touching all the chapters.

 

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Trail mix, nuts, chia seeds, quinoa and lentils. I like my food in plain sight.

 

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My favorite yogurt maker..easy and delicious!

 

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Quick & healthy sauce to serve over gluten free pasta: diced tomatoes, spices, mushrooms and spinach. Simmer and serve!

 

 

 

Moving Forward

Close scrutiny will show that most ‘crisis situations’ are opportunities to either advance, or stay where you are. -Maxwell Maltz

Take action! An inch of movement will bring you closer to your goals than a mile of intention. -Dr. Steve Maraboli

 

There’s a crazy intersection in the city near where I live called Kelley Square. There is traffic coming and going from all directions, with no traffic light or signs whatsoever. This area is known for its absolute chaos; there is even a Facebook page called I survived Kelley Square.

The first time I drove through this intersection, I was sure I just hadn’t seen the traffic signs. Anxiety set in as I tried to stay focused on what was in front of me while simultaneously noticing the traffic at my rear and all around me, and keeping my eyes peeled for that elusive yield sign.

The second time I drove through, a week or so later, I felt my heart beating quickly as I approached the intersection. I held out hope that there actually were traffic rules here and that I would grasp what they were this time around. But the second time was just like the first.

After going through Kelley Square three or four times, I finally asked someone who lived in the city,  What are the rules for Kelley Square?

Answer: There are none. You just take your opening, and go for it. Keep moving if you can. Only hesitate if you have to.

And so it goes.

I have high hopes for this new year. Health and fitness and writing and reaching goals.

And I’m not gonna lie, I am just fine with the holidays being over.

They were fun!

Joyous!

And I’m so over them now.

Isn’t everyone?
Is anyone ever left wanting more?

I don’t know.

But I get a sprint in my step as I am packing up the Christmas tree.

I was just so ready for a regular old month. I love regular old months, because there is room for surprises, progress, stillness, ideas. Writing.

The start of a brand new year.

Moving forward.

It’s going to be a good year.

A lot is going to happen. A lot already has.

Our middle daughter got engaged!

My husband has a Fitbit.  If you have one, or live with someone who has one, then you know why this is news. It goes everywhere with him.  It even sleeps with us.

I learned to cross country ski. More accurately, I learned to get up after falling. But it was something new, and new is synonymous with forward motion.

I’m going to compete in the Moth Story GrandSLAM. I hear it’s going to take place in March, finally, one year after my story slam win, but I’m still waiting for confirmation. Also awaiting the theme.

The following month, I am going to speak at a convention for marriage and family therapists about my book!

I am finishing said book. This year. No excuses. Because life doesn’t go on forever, you know. It just keeps moving forward, with or without us.

I cannot say I’ve mastered Kelley Square, and in fact it still scares me. But I see it a little differently now. Instead of chaos, I see people moving forward whenever they can.  Every driver is responsible for herself, but with a keen awareness of others around her.

Maybe that’s not so crazy after all.

Happy 2016.

 

 

 

 

The Mystery of Ideas

images treeI cannot think of any better time of year to contemplate the mystery of ideas.  For at least a moment, but preferably for a lifetime, I am asking you to consider the possibility that ideas and inspiration may come from an inexplicable source, from something divine and alive, perhaps from your own soul or as some may say, even from God Herself.  An idea can come out of a desperate plea or, more often,  from a simple opening  created in stillness.

However you choose to think about the concept of ideas that come to us, or through us, there is this universal truth: we all get them. 

But we most definitely do not always notice them, or invite them, or act on them. I think that much of the time we swat them away like flies. Why? I guess we are often too busy, too comfortable, too skeptical, too insecure, or just too darn attached to inertia. It’s just easier to ignore an idea than to engage in it.

In her newest book, Big Magic : Creative Living Beyond Fear, Elizabeth Gilbert has this to say about ideas:

Ideas are driven by a single impulse: to be made manifest. And the only way…is through collaboration with a human partner.

Ideas can be as varied as the people who host them, but I am talking about the creative ideas that spur us to make something new, or change something old. An idea may come as a whisper or it may include a bodily sensation such as excitement mixed with nervousness. And when you’re truly lucky, the idea may grip you with such force that there is only one way to go with it: forward.

 We are all creative beings after all, and I think we are just happier when we are creating something, even if it just a clever and satisfying tweak to our environment or routine, but especially when it is something even bigger.

So how can we invite ideas, the kind of another realm, the ones that bring joy and change and creations of all kinds?

Well since you asked, here’s my answer based on my own experiences as well as a boatload of reading on the topic (because it intrigues me to no end).

Eliminate Chaos.  Eliminate all of it, or as much as you can. Clear the decks, because ideas prefer a clear path. They cannot reach you if they are tripping over the clutter in and around you. Clean up the mess, literally and figuratively, and ideas will stand a chance of getting your attention.

For the love of ideas, Take Care of Yourself. You know what to do. Eat well, sleep well, get exercise, keep a reasonable schedule.

Pay Attention. When you receive that idea, don’t swat it away. It may hang around for a while, and you may get another chance at it, but eventually it will give up on you and move on. We’re all going to miss out on some ideas, but don’t let them all get away; especially not the big, scary ones, because those are rare and amazing. The bigger the commitment, the bigger the payoff.

 Follow Your Curiosities. Every new invention, creation, positive change or idea started with a question. What about this? What if..? What really happened?  What if I tried that? I wonder who, what , where…? Consider that your curiosities are gifts, leading you somewhere new. I don’t care if you are ninety years old, we all have curiosities. Have the conversation, take the new road, ask the darn questions. Even when it is inconvenient or unsettling or out of your comfort zone, don’t accept what you know as all you want to know. Allow curiosity. Follow it. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it brought the human to life.

 Take Your Ideas Seriously. Please.  I don’t mean in a rigid, stoic sort of way. I mean consider them. Play with them. Don’t be quick to dismiss them. Ideas come to us for a reason. Focus on it. Obsess over it if you have that luxury, but at least commune with an idea in a consistent manner, as soon as you can. Devote yourself to an idea and watch it grow. Be afraid if you must, but do it anyway. Make mistakes, ask for help, feel silly trying, inconvenience someone, but follow that damn idea. It’s yours.

That’s the best I’ve got.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and most of all, I hope you enjoy the mystery. Love the mystery. Leave some room for a new idea, and pull it close. It chose you.