New Year and Resolutions

The New Year and resolutions can’t be far behind. As always, there are those to lose weight and get more exercise. Work on health issues. I’m all over that, of course. It’s a daily, weekly, yearly battle or goal, depending on the successes.

Something else has come to my attention, though. Something that’s been nagging at me for some time. I neglected so much while I was sick. Nothing was filed, read or scanned. We kept the office clean and tidy, but when I got back to writing, that’s what I concentrated on. Organization suffered. Truth is it got out of hand and I’ve never dealt with it since. With good reason and decision, too, but now…Now, it’s time.

I’m like every writer I know, collecting articles and information, ideas and tickler snippets. I’m actually pretty good at filing all this mess of paper, but I’m in need of serious help now. The room is spilling out of its boundaries. I can’t always find what I’m looking for, which wastes too much time. I’m a tiny bit obsessive-compulsive, too, so the chaos shatters my concentration if I dwell too often or too much on all the things I haven’t done.

There’s no way around it. I need to do some sorting, organizing and eliminating. I’m smart enough to know it will be long-term work. Something that, a little at a time, will take many, many hours. There are writing books I’ve read I need to send to used books stores and magazines to toss. There are tokens and gifts and little things I’ve picked up to store. There are articles to scan, label and file for research.

Mostly, it’s time. That thing I never have enough of. I’ve begun this week between Christmas and New Years with the hope it will kick start the habit. The sad thing is I need to do the same in each room of the house and I plan to. I’ve come to realize it is a constant job—the sorting, storing, culling. Questions—Is this relevant in my life today and still? Do I still need or want this? Will I write about that? Do I need that nugget of information still? Have I used it and no longer need it?

Nothing earth shattering as far as resolutions go, but each little space I accomplish this with will pay me back and ease my mind.

And I begin today.

Dreams

I just finished a wonderful article in the June issue of Reader’s Digest. Written by Jacquelyn Mitchard, of The Deep End of the Ocean fame, Why Passion Matters is Mitchard’s take on letting children dream.

Kids dream. They’re much better at it than we are. They dream big and don’t worry over much about details. Over the years I’ve observed many parents advising their kids on future plans, schooling. I’ve given a bit of my own advice, even been the recipient of ‘good’ advice. Advice for practicality, for a fallback plan, for training and pursuing a secure, smart job field. And with every good, sound advice I’ve heard, there has been something in me silently screaming no.

In my own case, I had two passions in junior high: animals and writing. In my Careers class we were supposed to write a paper about two careers we thought we’d like to pursue. I chose veterinarian or writer. My teacher and parents told me both were impossible careers, informing me women weren’t accepted into Veterinarian school and writing was a wonderful hobby but writers couldn’t make a decent living. While both were true, I can’t tell you how I felt hearing that. It deflated me in this tiny, furtive way.

I never questioned the whole ‘women in Veterinarian school’. (It wouldn’t have mattered in writing the paper on careers, anyway.) By default I decided to do the paper on English teacher as my career, although that sounded like a consolation prize. (Truth be told, I don’t think I could ever stand in front of a class everyday either)

I’ve heard parent’s advise, gently guide, even brainwash their kids into a path they think best, safe, smart. Often it proves a good wise fit, but I wonder what could have been and secretly cringed inside. Now days there is so much pressure for kids to be better and faster that dreams seem hard to come by. It’s true, in order to get by there isn’t much chance to dream, to pursue frivolous occupations, but…kids ought to be allowed to dream.

I think, I know, dreams persist anyway. They will find their way out into the light some time, some way, somehow. And sometimes in the fight for the light, those dreams break your heart. Much better to chase them and fail, then to have them stymied, I think. I wonder if letting kids dream more, be practical less isn’t a wiser thing.

I like Mitchard’s advice: Risk everything. Plans, B, C, D, and E will always be there.
What about giving some time to Plan A? Plan B comes along sure as computer crashes.

I don’t know that I did such a good job teaching my kids to follow dreams, (I hope I wasn’t too totally practical. I hope I left room for them to follow dreams) but I can’t go back and redo it. So, if I only teach my grandkids one thing—I want it to be to dream, (despite what parents or teachers say), to follow those dreams even into failure. If I do that I’ll be pleased.

If you have a chance to read this article, do so.