I’m not usually a fan of November. It’s one of those months that kind of shuffles off stage in the blink of an eye. Nothing interesting happens, and nothing good has ever come out of a month like November. If anything, November is remembered for being the month where the weather turns to shit and you count the days till you can count the days till Christmas.
But this November is special. This November I have had focus and I have had drive. I have thrown myself into my work and the results can be filed under, “So Far, So Good.”
It all started with the decision to grow a beard and write a novel. I’ve tried to do both of these things before, and to be fair, I did once finish writing a novel. However, a solid beard has always eluded me, and my facial hair has constantly remained at a level of solid public embarrassment. This month, I decided to try again, and I lumped that goal of a good beard in with the goal of creating a new novel.
Now, equipped with goals, my life seems a little more directed. I know what I should be doing at all times: I should be growing a beard and working on the novel. This level of direction has helped immensely in levelling out my usual state of mental clusterfuck.
Of course, it helped that I told everyone I know that I was doing both of these things. Telling everyone took away any easy out, as people would either be asking me how the novel was coming along, or commenting on the fucking abomination I have growing on my face. I’ve always said that it’s stupid to set goals, and that one should just go out and do. Nothing should hold you back and you shouldn’t have to plan actually accomplishing something, you should just do it. I have thought like this for years.
However, I am an idiot.
Goals are good. The Work is always good. Goals help you get into the work. This November has taught me this, and has broken the streak of useless Novembers past. It feels good to have purpose.