This post is part of my do that thing series. For previous updates, in handy reverse chronological order, click here.
I've been working on one particular project that I can't wait to show you. In my mind's eye, it's something really special. Only, it's not finished yet.
It's a new journal. A pocket journal that you can take with you wherever you go. It will be simply made and staple bound, with a limited selection of bright covers, but on the inside, oh the inside, it will be filled with some of my best doodles and prompts yet. There will even be a new category of prompt, one that you haven't seen yet, one that will nudge you even closer to your goals.
I have made it so easy for myself. One page per day, I tell myself. I can do one page per day. One page per day and I'll be finished in, like, a month, maybe two at the most.
Except that I've been working on this project for more than a year. I'd say it's about half-finished.
It's Friday today, and I look back on this week, a week punctuated by sick days for both girls, a day-long meeting outside my city, an afternoon commitment, a volunteer commitment, a couple of appointments, a longer-than-intended-but-totally-worth-it lunch with a friend, dinners to make, baths to run, a couch to pass out on when the kids are finally asleep, and I see that I've only opened the file twice and never even came close to finishing one page.
I won't lie. There's a measure of dread here. That I'll never see this through. That I just can't do it.
And then there is the thought that this is life. And progress is slow. And that's no reason to give up.