Last December, when everyone was busy thinking up New Year’s resolutions, I just dug up the one from last year: being more creative, doing more healthy/sporty things. The usual. Prone to fail, as always.
But then something happened. I had started two calendars, one for the creative things, one for the healthy ones. As usual, at the beginning of the year, everything worked out fine. Every day I did something creative (blogging, writing, working on a photo-book I coloured in one calendar day in dark blue. And everyday I did something sporty (talking a long walk, dropping Little One off at school on the bike, yoga) I coloured in one calendar day in turquoise. Quite soon, the dark blue calendar showed some white spots. Days I was too busy being creative. But the turquoise one filled up. And up. Very soon I found myself doing a little yoga in the evening, even if I had done something else too. Even if I did not feel well. Even if we were travelling and arrived late. I did something. Maybe not much, maybe just a bit, but I went through my moves, I stretched and bent and it always made me feel better.
I started to be really proud of myself. And a goal appeared: a the end of the year, I did not want see a single white day in that turquoise calendar. October passed, November passed, December came. All good. I could already see the finishing line.
But then yesterday happened. An incredibly busy day with me buzzing around the whole day. Which is not unheard of. We also had family coming, to stay for the weekend. Also not completely uncommon. I cooked and took care of the dishes and got the boys to bed, I set with family to chat. At one point I excused myself, being very tired. Husband stayed down for a bit longer to chat with his dad.
I went upstairs with the thought in my head ‘I still need to do my yoga – I will just do it on the bedroom floor, as the living room is still blocked’. Also not the first time.
But then I forgot.
I got ready for bed, I brushed my teeth, I snuggled under my blanket. Done with the day.
No yoga. Nothing else done that day I could remotely call “sporty” or “healthy”.
So, with the end in sight, I blew it.
I wanted to stand there on the evening of the 31st, having proved to myself that I, Miss Absolutely Unsporty, can have the discipline to pull it through.
But I haven’t. So I can’t.
And it wasn’t even my choice.