In these notebooks I would track my progress as I pursued my goal. The first few pages were always filled with meticulous records, detailed notes, and often, inspirational doodles of happy ponies.
These entries would quickly devolve into hurried scrawlings as life got in the way of my ambitions...
and then... they'd stop all together.
I recently stumbled across my last notebook. A plain and simple journal. This notebook was obviously purchased when I was in a bit of a dark place. I was in the process of finishing my thesis, and was dealing with a major professor that took immense joy in demoralizing her students. Despite the fact I got this notebook with the sole intention of recording my thoughts and feelings, the topic of "goals" crept quite conspicuously into the very first entry. I guess my brain is jus very goal-oriented.
**Read in my best goth kid voice**
"I bought this new notebook because there is something so rejuvenating about a real, physical blank slate. Blank slates are something I seem to need a lot in my life. As a result, I have a house filled with half-filled notebooks with the scrawlings of goals never achieved. Souvenirs from the place where dreams go to die."
Ugh. I promise. I'm typically not such a drama queen. At the time, I saw these notebooks as evidence of my failures, and looking back I still believe that to be the truth, but in a much less depressing way. The difference is I now understand that my successes in life are built on the backs of my failures. Each time I falter when reaching for a goal, I learn valuable lessons on what not to do which aid me in my next attempt. The only true failure comes with not trying again. So as I look forward to 2014, I will still reach for the sky. What I won't do is allow myself to be crippled by the fear of failing, because hey. That's just part of the game. With that being said, I'm off to buy a new notebook! Happy New Year, Horse Nation!
Go Riding!!
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