Keeping Secrets

Have you ever heard that when you have a goal you shouldn't tell anyone? That by telling someone of your goal or dream, the urgency or importance of that goal disappears and you are less likely to achieve your goal? Have you ever noticed this? I have.

I wanted to have a farm, I told people, the importance of this has diminished with time, but I wonder how much of it was because I did tell people of my dream. I may still garden on a big scale if I ever get my own place, but I don't think it will be a farm.

I wanted to write and illustrate a children's book. I actually had some pictures painted and sketches of the other pages. Then I told people what I was doing, and I haven't worked on it since then, almost 2, maybe 3 years ago.

My backpack and all my gear has been collected!

I did tell everyone about my goal of hiking the Ice Age Trail. That one I am determined to do. I've bought all the necessary gear. I got maps, I've done some practice hikes (this is the link to the last post about my practice hike and trip in Colorado, links to part one and two are in the post), I'm hoping I can make it work. I hope I don't give up on it over the winter. I hope it won't have been too long between my initial interest and when I finally get to go that I begin to lose interest. This happens to me a lot as well. (Here is some of my prep and here.)

SO maybe from now on, I won't share my goals with anyone until I have made definite progress on them or have even completed them. Everyone should have goals and dreams, everyone should be taking steps to complete those goals or to reach their dreams. I find myself following and reading all of Elizabeth Gilbert's posts on Facebook, (author of Eat, Pray, Love) and she has lots of really great and important insight into following your dreams and accomplishing your goals. The most recent one was about how all the successful women she has met and the ones a friend interviewed, said that they listened to the voice in their head. The voice that told them that they had to do the scary things, the (seemingly) impossible things, the things that had absolutely nothing to do with what they were currently doing or planning for their lives. Those voices knew what had to be done.

I felt the need to paint, so I've pulled out my paints again.

I hear that voice in my head, I call it my "Creative Genius," another thing I heard from Elizabeth Gilbert. I don't like that voice all the time. I ignore it because what it is telling me I have to do is so off the track of what I think my life should be, that I can't understand why I should do those things. Some of what it says is scary beyond my current level of tolerance. Some of it makes no sense. The Ice Age Trail trip, I suddenly knew I needed to do that, it has no obvious connection to anything I want in my life except to be able to say I did something this grand and difficult on my own. Maybe my Creative Genius knows best and is forcing me out of my comfort zone to shake something loose, or maybe some cosmic being knows that if I take this trip something amazing will happen in my "real" life. The life where I am a contributing member of society.

My second painting this week, I have more ideas!

I'm working on finding my happy. I lost it for a while, you can read about that here. And right now that seems to mean doing whatever I feel like doing, even if I have no plans for what I'm doing. Like the paintings. Right now I am enjoying simply making them, I have no plans or goals for them. And if I did, at this point I wouldn't tell you. [smiley face] I finished making some items that would be great Christmas gifts for kids and babies, the quilted books are fun to make and having completed them, finally, gives me a little sense of accomplishment. Just like every time I finish one of my crocheted Kritters, that makes me smile too.

Quilted fabric color books.

So this secret I'll tell you: I'm going to start trying to listen to the voice in my head. The one that tells me to do the scary, the impossible, the ridiculous. I'm going to see what happens. Maybe I will find my happy even before I hit the trail next spring. It won't be easy doing the scary, and I'm sure I'll want to continue to ignore the voice, but where has that gotten me so far?

One of my crocheted Kritters.