Practice, Practice, Practice... and Start a Blog

At one point, I actually drew a diagram with myself in the middle of a piece of paper and all the things I wanted to do, learn and explore, around me with arrows going in every direction.

There were a lot of arrows.

I have always had many interests and I love learning, but at the same time I was feeling overwhelmed by all the things I wanted to do. Looking at the diagram, it became pretty obvious that I couldn't follow every arrow at once. I needed to narrow my focus and take action.

Around that same time, I kept receiving the message that I needed more structure and routine in my life. I honestly can't remember now whether it came through an oracle card, an astrology reading, or maybe both. Either way, the message landed.

I needed to get out of analysis paralysis and create some structure around all those arrows.

So, I decided I needed a large whiteboard.

I looked at several online and in stores but didn't want to pay a lot. I put it out into the universe and let it go. A few days later, I walked into a thrift store and there it was for $5.

Well, that worked.

If only everything were that easy.

I brought it home and got to work. I disregarded the days of the week printed across the top and made the board my own. I created five rows for the areas I wanted to focus on and used the six columns across the board for actions I could take to move each one forward.

Then, I gathered up all my loose ends—the unfinished courses, modules I hadn't completed, books I had started, and books I hadn't even opened yet.

Finish this course. Complete these modules. Finish this book. Read that book.

I had goals around practicing Jin Shin Jyutsu, working with animals, becoming more visable, connecting with nature, and my own health and well-being.

When I was finished, I sat back and felt pretty satisfied with myself.

There it was.

A plan.

I put the whiteboard where I would see it every day and started crossing things off as I made progress.

About a month later, all of my kids came over for a sleepover. My son and his wife slept upstairs in my office on an air mattress, right beside my carefully organized whiteboard.

The next day, after everyone had gone home, I went upstairs to straighten up. Somewhere between blankets, feet, pillows and an air mattress, most of my beautiful plan had been wiped away.

At first I felt defeated.

All that work.

Now I was going to have to do it all over again.

But then I looked closer.

My whiteboard, still as it is today

The last column was still remarkably clear.

Practice Jin Shin Jyutsu.

Practice with animals.

Add a blog to my website.

Practice journeying.

And along the bottom, in the row I had devoted to my health and well-being, a few simple things remained:

Yoga. Meditate. Sunshine. Qigong. Stretching daily.

All those courses, books, modules and carefully thought-out steps had mostly disappeared. What remained were the things that asked me to actually do something.

I recalled being told in a healing session that I didn't need another course, another book, or another certification. I already had everything I needed. I remember practically gasping at the thought.

How could that possibly be true?

Surely I needed to learn more. Study more. Prepare more. There was always another book I could read or another course I could take before I would really be ready.

I still love learning, and I probably always will. But I've also come to realize that learning and preparing can become a very comfortable place to stay.

Sometimes all that preparation is simply analysis paralysis wearing a very productive-looking outfit.

So many of us wait to feel ready. We think we need to know more, learn more, or somehow become more qualified before we trust ourselves enough to begin.

But maybe we don't become ready and then begin.

Maybe beginning is how we become ready.

Five minutes of practice counts. Consistency builds the muscles. Experience gives us a kind of knowing that we can't always get from another book.

And maybe that's why those simple words along the bottom of the board mattered too.

Meditate. Get some sunshine. Practice Qigong. Stretch.

None of them required me to learn anything else first. They simply required me to show up and do them.

At some point, we just have to go do the darn thing.

Whether my whiteboard was a message from the universe, a bit of synchronicity, or simply something I was finally ready to see, the message felt pretty clear:

Stop preparing for the life you want to live and start living it.

Use what you already know. Practice it. Be imperfect. Give it five minutes today if that's all you have, and come back tomorrow.

And if you're wondering what you're supposed to do if you stop preparing?

Do the thing you've been preparing to do.

Isn't that the point?

Oh, and that blog I was suppose to start? I eventually did. And here we are.