A little real talk real quick:
Today is Friday. I shuffled around in zombie-like fashion for the first two hours of my morning. The week was full. The remnants of summer’s days – long and slow – are quickly evaporating. Our eager seven-year-old neighbor, desperate to borrow my husband’s phone for a few rounds(?) of Pokemon Go legitimately wondered if Tanner will ever get a break again. And I wonder the same thing. Can I find the chance to get on top of things before the race to the end of the semester breaks out in a full-fledged sprint?
Fall has taken off and I feel as though I am left chasing after it, like the kid who missed his bus. And so, without a vision of what is important, the tyrannical urgent has moved my days along. I get to work on time, I muddle my way through my commitments, I somehow get 3 meals a day on the table (or in tupperware to-go), I get the dishes done (sometimes). But the creative projects, the big vision dreams, the things I long to do but am not driven by the consequences of them not happening…these things are lost.
I don’t think it is a lack of time that keeps me from sitting down to do these things. There are slots of time scattered throughout all of my days – no matter how busy. We can always find time for what we really want to do.
It is the inability to get started that is holding me back.
I don’t want to start until I have a complete plan. I don’t want to begin a project until I know how I will complete it. I want to map out where I am going and how I will get there.
Twenty minutes ago I put the baby that I care for down for a morning nap. I read a few pages of a book, scrolled through Instagram, switched the laundry, and tried to decide how to use this quiet time. I wanted to write something but I didn’t have a great idea of what and I knew I’d probably be interrupted by before I finished anything. I opened Twitter. I don’t even like Twitter. I do like what Bob Goff has to say on there though, especially today.
“Most of us don’t need a better plan, we just need to start.”
I closed Twitter and opened a new document.
It isn’t about perfection. It can’t be about perfection. We just have to do something.
So I’m here, on a Friday morning while the baby sleeps. I started. I did something. It won’t be anywhere close to the best post I have written. I don’t even know if I’ll publish it. But that’s not what matters. What matters is starting.
I don’t know where you are on this September Friday morning. Maybe you feel like you missed the bus too and you’re chasing to catch up to the season that started without you. Maybe it feels like you can only manage to do the things that are pressing up against you, the urgent deadlines and details. Maybe your plan isn’t perfect. Maybe you don’t even have a plan. But I don’t think any of that is big enough to hold us back from giving a wholehearted, imperfect start and beginning the groundwork for our quiet hopes today.