November seemed to just fly by, and all of a sudden, the final month of 2015 is now well underway. This one’s a particularly big deal for me, as I have a February birthday and with the coming of 2016 looms the inevitability of turning another decade older. Doing some reflective thinking on both the year and my life as a whole, I find myself feeling admittedly overwhelmed. My 20’s have been a decade-long ordeal — half spent spiraling into the depths of depression, the other half crawling and fighting my way out. It’s only in the past couple years that I’ve started to pull myself together as I intended to, and the pressing realization of just how much lost time I have to try to make up for bears down on me every day. I’m going to be turning 30, but vocationally and academically I’m not much further along than those who’ve just turned 20. All the time and energy that should have been applied on those fronts I’ve ended up having to allocate towards figuring out my damage and fix it, all the while feeling like shit for having it and for not being able to resolve it quickly and easily. More specific to this year, I’ve made constant mention of making a “harder push”: mapping out and manage my time with deadly efficiency, maximize productivity & learning, expanding the focus/frequency/insensity of my workouts, and improving as a writer. So far, the closest I feel that I’ve gotten to embodying that was back in August of this year when I ran a cumulative distance of over 200 miles.
During a recent listen to an old episode of Back to Work, the following question was posed to listeners:
I decided to start blogging again years ago as an accountability mechanism and as a progressive journal. For the longes time, I didn’t write much because I felt I didn’t have much progress to log. Yet, with all that’s changed/improved over the recent past, the output doesn’t reflect that. As for why:
- On Guard
In my entry about Thanksgiving this year, I made mention of how openly I write about myself publicly but am very guarded when it comes to discussing myself in person. Similarly, I write more freely about myself when it concerns my past, but when it comes to the present or recent events, there’s a heavy reluctance to do so. Partly because I’m still somewhat figuring that out on a day-to-day basis, and partly because of…
- Sense of Lack of Authority
Writing about being a depressed trainwreck of a person is easy — it’s what I’ve lived most recently for such a prolonged period of time, it’s what I know best. In areas of other relevant interests, like Greek stoicism and Buddhism, I’m such an unlearned novice that trying to take those on as writing topics feels like it would only result in uninformed noise.
- Time Mismanagement
As stated above, there’s a lot of other things that I’ve got on my plate in terms of personal improvement. Physical fitness goals, career skill development, hobbies. In constantly shifting my focus across the board instead of dedicating time to hone in on one at a time, I’ve been getting a whole lot of nothing done.
- Good Old Fashioned Procrastination & Laziness
Ultimately, these are excuses more than they are reasons, in spite of whatever amount of validity there is behind them. Last month, I thought I’d be able to pull off a repeat of August with my running and get a lot of writing done riding the NaNoWriMo wave. That got derailed, but already finding myself a week into the last month of the year, I’m feeling the fire under my ass I should have been channeling last month.