{a physical representation of goals -- a contract with yourself}


Hello my lovlies!

After years of going red, I'm a blond again. *G* Just enjoying my new, much lighter hair!


This is my contract with myself.

When we make agreements in writing, we're much more prone to follow them. They are physical proof of abstract promises, a daily reminder that, at one time, we were willing and excited about a goal. In those moments when we'd do anything to get out of this creative venture, we can turn to a contract, see the words written clearly on the page, and steel our resolve to do them, even when we don't want to. Even when we feel we don't have the time, or aren't feeling good. 

And accomplishing them isn't as difficult as it may sound. A ten minute break at work is enough time for me to get down 150 words. Waking up an hour early gives just enough time to paint a journal page or solder a pendant. These limited blocks of time give birth to greater accomplishment simply because they're shorter. There aren't hours stretching out before you, endless idle time to get things done. Outside forces are at work, holding a clock over your head -- get it done now because this is all you have.

These limits help reign in inspiration. Instead of sitting there waiting for it to strike, you command it, shape it to your liking. This doesn't mean you fake it, rather, you tell your muse or the divine that you are sitting down to work, ready to feel their graceful hand, and they can do the same. You're partners in this endeavor, and partners are there for each other.

And so, I've created two very simple goals. To do some sort of art each day, and to write 1000 words. I don't say work on a painting each day, or that the 1000 words have to be all of one thing, or just "serious" writing. I give leeway. I allow for oddities and the surprises of life. A full day can still give way to accomplishment -- a stolen photograph, scrawled words between customers or calls.

It is the intent that matters -- that you are trying your best, at any moment, to fulfill your contract. The more you do it, the easier it gets to jump right in during those stolen three minutes you have. And if you find yourself with a day or three of endless possibilities, you can jump in feet first instead of sticking a toe in the chilly water and needing time to get used to it. Dive in, call to your inspiration, and each day, word by word, drawing by drawing, you will achieve more than you could possibly imagine.

See? 500 words done. In 15 minutes, I'm halway there. Add to that the 150 during a break, and it doesn't seem so difficult after all.