It seems like I’ve been starting the past few months like – oh hey! It’s a new month!? The realization that time is passing by as fast as water running from a faucet is getting old in 2019 quite quickly.
When it comes to achieving the monthly goals I set for myself in April, I succeeded. I sold over $200 worth of various items – the exact amount is not truly important. It was a nice clean-out month of larger items, with one Etsy sale. I also was good about making time for myself, whether it was going to the gym, working on a project, or just sleeping.
I do not have goals for May aside from the continuation of sales and steadily growing my shop (I have a craft show mid-month) and what I’ve been doing health-wise. The past few days I’ve driven quite a bit and it’s given me some time to think. Really think. I’ve been hustling my ass in hopes that it will, eventually, pan out with me doing less. I’ve been adding more to my plate thinking that at some point it will all come off of it. So far that tactic hasn’t worked very well in my life and this…habit…this…flawed sense of direction…has not given me any indication that the result will be what I want it to be. If anything, I feel busier than I’ve ever felt before and I hate it.
Why is “being busy” some sort of competition?
Why do most people pack their schedules with activities and chores that don’t bring them any real pleasure?
Why are we stressing ourselves out?
What’s the purpose?
Why am I doing this to myself?
Maybe I don’t need to necessarily set new goals for myself every month. Maybe the shit I’m doing in my life isn’t really that important.
Maybe I can focus on doing the things that feel important to me at the time – things I want to do; the things that bring me happiness and joy. Less structure. More fluidity.
All these maybes.