The Month I Just Finished

So, I’m a little over a month into my Year I Just Finished project and so far, so good…so far. 

I’ve made really good progress in some areas of my life:  I am now a regular early riser and a quasi-regular runner; my daily devotions are daily-er, my attendance at the weekly men’s bible study weeklier, and my commitment to monthly confession met.  HRG and I have met to hold each other accountable an average of once a week and we were able to knock off a honey do project at his house at the eleventh hour.  Boo-yah.  Also, I finished Brideshead Revisited, the first book on my list of books to finish this year.  (I’ll write more about Brideshead in my next post.)  But the biggest news I have to report is that I miserably failed the first Big Test of Finishing that I had set for myself: finishing my grades on time. 

Four times a school year Mrs. Drapeau becomes a grading widow, and this year I resolved to change that.  Unfortunately, the second verse of the quarter time dirge was the same as the first.  Once again my poor wife spent a week wailing, why-ing, and wearing black.  Eventually, I did finish my task and the world is still spinning, but I have to confess I was disappointed with myself.  Argh!

Nevertheless, wallowing in self-reproach keeps me from finishing the next things on my list, so let’s be finished with that. Anyway, the month wasn’t a total bust, so, here, distilled for your reading pleasure, are the lessons I learned in January—the month I just finished:

Checklists build muscle memory.

I wrote about lists in my previous post.  Ninety-four percent of my success this past month is owing to following the sequence of events I had put into my checklist.  Muscle memory is a powerful tool.  Fixed routines develop it.

Tasks tackled immediately are half done at the start.

I got a lot done in January.  I turns out I have more time to get things done than I thought.  I simply had to free the time my complaining about not having enough time was holding hostage.  Once that was done, I was halfway there. 

My expectations need to be less great.

I’ve always considered myself a lazy slug, but now I’m starting to suspect that I’ve been too hard on myself.  Yeah, I failed big time in a couple of things and, yeah, it’s my fault I didn’t get right to it/stick to it/whatever.  But, honestly, when I failed this time, I failed honestly. 

My estimates of what I can legitimately accomplish are all based on my ability to flawlessly duplicate—on command—my best, most productive day ever and on the ability of every other person involved in my life from baby to barista to also have perfect days.  It’s ridiculous.  I’m ridiculous for thinking that any mere mortal can do what I thought I could.

St. Joseph (the worker, not the hospital) sets a great example.

One of the meditations I read talked about the kind of worker St. Joseph must have been: diligent, patient, thorough.  He is a great example to emulate. 

I’m sure his tools were sharp when he used them and properly stored when he wasn’t using them. I’m certain that no wobbly chairs or dissatisfied customers ever came out of his workshop. I’m convinced that come quitting time, he swept up the sawdust and kept up his cheerfulness—even towards those infuriating customers who blow in at the last minute in a flurry of impossible self-importance.  I want to be more like him.  How great that he can help make that happen.

So, there you go: one month down, eleven to finish.  Please keep me in your prayers—I need all the help I can get!

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