Someone in my writing group said the words – Bullet Journal. Of course I had to check it out, wasting hours of time online to find just the right journal, pens, rulers, stencils and stickers. Oh, but I can now schedule that writing time on a monthly, weekly or daily calendar. I can track my writing goals, every book I’ve read, every movie I’ve seen. And my weight. And a reasonable diet and exercise routine. The weather. You name it – there’s a page for that.
Unlike all those fill in the blank kind of goal journals, calendars and planners, I get to choose my own set up. And every week I can change my layout to match the predominant personality trait of the week. It only takes an hour or so each Sunday night to prepare for the week. It’s quite simple: Check Pinterest for a new idea, trace it into my notebook, put in a couple of stickers (because I have no artistic talent), pen in the appointments (blue for work, green for JJ, purple for red hat, red for the important stuff), transfer all the To Dos from the previous week that didn’t get checked off because I was too busy looking for a better layout for the following week, add new To Dos for the current week, and decide what I might want to track for the next seven days.
Some people choose to keep a daily page. I’m not going there – yet. Well, truth be told, on my first week, I did keep sort of a daily journal. But, that required sitting down each night, regurgitating all that happened, noting all the important events, feelings, calories, weight, To Dos that did get done, and finding some small thing to be gracious about. Honestly, it’s that gratitude thing that put an end to daily pages after the refrigerator quit working during the heat wave and hubby got bit by a pit bull.
The big advantage to spending the money for a Leuchtturm1917 journal, is that it comes with an index and nice little dots that help keep things lined up. The index is important. The journal will soon become a helter-skelter of disorganization because you work on it page by page. No leaving extra room for this or that. Just keep on going. That’s the general idea. Without an index it will be impossible to find that growing check off TBR list of books to read or the last time you weighed in. Problem is I’ve yet to figure out the proper way to list that index. By subject? Date? For now, I have left my index blank and tagged the important list pages with cute little kitty tabs purchased at Daiso for a dollar.
I thought since a writer brought this bullet journal subject up, it must be the best tool for getting a writer’s work done. I promised myself that my bullet journal would serve a writer’s purpose. It would contain all my scenes, possible themes and book titles, characters, story arcs, and goals. When I reach the end of this journal, there will be just enough pages remaining for that book tour calendar. And when it becomes a best seller, I’ll afford a whole new set of top of the line bullet journal tools.
So you see, it seems I have another procrastination technique, just like Social Media, E-mail, errands and laundry, to keep from writing. Now you know where I’ve been. At least now I get to check off that nagging little box that has been forwarded for the last four weeks: √ Write Blog Post.
Ten years ago today I said goodbye to my best friend.
We met in the sunset of our lives. It’s not an uncommon occurrence that two women become best of friends in the Red Hat Society. This disorganization of women over fifty has grown in exponential proportions since its inception only a few years ago. It fills the need for those women over fifty to gather together to celebrate life with fun and frivolity. And that is exactly what we do. We do it with whim and wit flaunting our age in shades of purple topped off with brilliant red hats.
When I learned about this society of women, I felt that my conservative and shy nature made me an unlikely candidate for such a prominent public display of splendorous glitz. Under the guise of a dare I coerced a few old friends into buying red hats, purple dresses, and showing up for high tea at a local tea room. We giggled under our bright red brims, a conspicuous spectacle of color amid the dainty pink and white décor. Due to a few inquiring ladies with sense of admiration we emerged a couple of hours later with our hats tilted with a new attitude (hat-itude). The next day I registered with Hat Quarters as Queen of the newfound RHS Molls.
The Molls chapter has now grown into an eclectic group of over sixty members and while I enjoy the exaltedness of being a queen, so contrary to my life before red hats, the biggest reward has been my bond with one special new friend. She walked into my life with a handful of silly purple clappers, the biggest grin ever, and the heartiest of all laughs. We had the same purpose in mind… pure fun. And fun we have, time and again.
Neither one of us had a single clue that the biggest problems in our lives would be our biggest bond. It happened a few months after we met when I shared with her a rather personal reason for my escape into this society of women. Her face dropped as she blurted out her reason. While our situations were different, we shared equally desperate challenges. The point is not what we suffered from but how we would take care of each other. We allowed each other the space to share the daily trials in our life and then we moved past that into fun and friendship. We learned that sharing the grief, with compassion and a good sense of humor lessened the burdens and intensified the fun.
This friendship that developed was far beyond the friendships of my youth. For me the young friends came and went as we grew apart in our individuality, moved on, or moved away. My life has been a journey with turbulent twists and turns. But as I settle into my second half of life and learn who I have become through these circumstances of life, the growing pains recede. I begin to let go of the past and enjoy a new set of friends; friends, who know and like each other for who we are today.
There is a new set of dynamics however in these recent relationships. Youth behind us we now realize the evidence of our temporary existence as friends, old and new, begin to pass on. And so, this special friend and I shared our last days together in sadness and in joy. Together, we cherished the journey and the gifts of each day.
Rest in peace my dear friend. I miss you every day.