The Good Thing About A Bad Year

At the beginning of 2020, I made a list of twelve goals for the year. Not extremely ambitious goals. Nothing crazy. I thought it looked pretty doable and even a bit modest considering where I was in my life at the time. A week ago, I looked at the list again. Do you know how many points I checked off?

None.

Zero.

Not kidding.

You know, 2020 could have gone a lot worse for me. I didn’t get sick, lose my job, or get mauled by anybody for my political views. I didn’t suffer much from the increased isolation and the absolute heat-death of my social universe beyond cyberspace. And with all the extra time from shutdowns and cancellations, you would think I would have been pretty productive last year.

But I wasn’t. I couldn’t focus. The chaos outside, which really didn’t bother me much, emotionally, must have taken a deeper toll on my mental state than I thought. Focus and discipline in my creative life has always been a bit of a scarcity, but never so much as in 2020.

Still, it wasn’t all bad. I think I learned a lot and discovered a lot in 2020. I tried some things I’ve never tried before (and some I’ll never try again.) But I’m glad for a new beginning.

My list of goals for 2021 is a bit different than last year’s. I’ve broken my year down into three-month sections with only a handful of things per section I want to achieve. This gives me a timeline—rather loose, but just real enough to keep me focused on a few things at a time. I’m being realistic about my reading schedule this year. Guys, I’m not a mega-reader like a lot of you are. I can’t knock out 127 books a year like the pros do. I’m giving myself a minimum: one book a month. It beats last year.

I’m also going to devote more time to art this year. And music. I want to overcome some mental blocks that went up around music during my rather rough college days. I hope to start playing the piano again—and I want to write some new songs. I’ve also challenged myself to completing one painting a month this year. People who know me in real life think I paint a lot more than I actually do. Sadly, I haven’t painted on my own time in years.

You notice I haven’t mentioned writing goals yet. That’s because I know how slow I am and don’t want to make promises to my readers. But let me just hint that this might be a record-setting year for my publishing career. I’m excited. I’ve got a ton of work to do, but it’s my favorite kind of work.

So, here’s to 2021. A new year: mysterious, likely to be momentous, difficult, painful at times—but still full of hope an opportunity. Here’s to another chance to refocus and be a light in the dark. It’s time to celebrate, because there’s at least one good thing about 2020—it shouldn’t be a hard act to follow.