I adore beginnings. Beginnings are charged with energy, filled with possibility. They haven’t been tested yet. Devoid of failure and disappointment, beginnings allow me to believe that anything is possible.
This is true of almost every fresh start: the first day of a new diet or exercise plan, or the beginning of a new routine. The first year in a new location, the first week in a new job, the first day of vacation. A movie I haven’t seen before. A new restaurant. A new friend.
Life becomes smaller in these lock-down days, but there are still plenty of opportunities for beginnings. I pull out a stack of blank notecards. I page through my address book, and fill out envelopes. Who to write to? What to talk about? I could share my frustrations, tell funny stories, or just let someone know that I’m thinking of them.
I start a new book. Sometimes it announces itself right away, with a first line that draws me in to the center of the story, and holds my interest. Other times, I am teased along. “You might like this,” the book whispers to me, “keep reading.” Then, it’s like a birthday surprise when the effort pays off, with characters and plot that were worth the wait.
I turn to a new page in my sketchbook. Oh happy day! In my gratitude journal, I write, “I am so grateful to be starting a new page in my sketchbook today!” I muse to myself, and may even write down, “What was I thinking anyway, to decide to fill an entire page – six little drawings – with leaves that blew in from outside?!” And I smile as I settle on filling the next page with sketches of shells or stones.
The beginning of a new week is always filled with hope. I flip the page in my bullet journal. This week, the quote is from Sister Mary Corita Kent: “The only rule is work. If you work, it will lead to something. It’s the people who do all of the work all the time who eventually catch on to things.” Along the bottom left margin I’ve written, “You can do this!” On the facing page, it says, “It’s going to be a great day!”
Beyond that, the week is blank, ready for me to fill it. First, with places I need to be, and things I have to do. Second, I block off time for special projects, either outside or inside. Beyond that, I wait. I prefer to write things down after they’re done. That way, the entries mainly reflect what I have accomplished, rather than what I’ve failed to get to.
The first of the week is the beginning of my “weekend.” Three days off, to fill any way that I choose. The time stretches before me so vastly at the start, I often while away hours or even entire days on frivolous nonsense, before I realize time is limited. Often, I’ve been preoccupied, just enjoying the renewal of a fresh beginning!