A friend gave me a treasure box of gifts for Christmas.
One of the items in it was this gilded 2019 planner.
I already have a (rather large) daily planner for mapping out my workdays—I write in pencil because, as I accommodate the teachers I support, the course of each day shifts constantly, and I make lots of notes. Part of living the coachly life. I’ve learned to embrace it.
So I look at this beautiful planner and think: How shall I use it?
I could give it away, except that don’t want to, it was given to me with love, and I have come to understand that things come to us for a reason. There’s a purpose for this little planner.
I look at it, shimmery and new, just like the year itself, lying before me.
I will use it for something personal, then.
Maybe for my writing. To map out a timeline, to hold myself accountable for completing things. Or perhaps as a bit of a notebook, recording new thoughts and ideas before they get away, before I have the chance to play with them and flesh them out. I could capture images until I have time to explore why they struck me and what they mean. I frequently use the notes app in my phone for this but the planner has more “space” for movement, for expression. Not to mention sketching. I could carry it with me, keep it by my bedside.
Or I might even be able to use the planner as a sort of manuscript style sheet. For I’ve lots of things that need to be written, rewritten, or simply finished.
However I slice it, then, the planner invites me to plan.
And to write.
And there’s my word for 2019.
It’s something I already do, that already defines me, so it seems superfluous, but it’s the word, the action, that calls to me most. With the greatest sense of urgency, tinged with excitement.
Here’s to your own unique adventure as the golden cover of 2019 opens.
Take it, live it, to the next level.
And one of them is your story.