My bullet journal suffered fatal injuries yesterday when I left it on top of our car after chasing our one-year-old through the parking lot.
I was lucky enough to find its pieces later that day strewn and smashed along the Holden Road/Bryan Boulevard overpass.
As I wait for a new one to arrive from the Amazon fairy, I pulled out a journal I bought for us in 2015 that I labeled our family dream book.
The cover has a great quote that I eagerly claim now that I’m officially in middle years.
I’ll take it, Mr. Lewis.
Only the first three pages of the journal have been utilized.
And to my delight this morning I opened the front cover to see a list of dreams Melissa and I wrote down in October 2018.
We wrote down fourteen things, and without any direct attention or focus on these particular goals, seven of them have happened.
I was like whaaaaa?–those write-it-down-woo-woo people are on to something. I’m totally one of those write it down woo woo people.
The other goals we wrote down are pandemic-limited, so when we are out of the woods on this, we’ll see!
So, write it down. Make it plain. Even if it’s sitting on your night stand for two and a half years, I’m reminded there’s power in it.
And make them crazy! Go big and stay home–for now.
