A week or so ago I opened a new file on my computer desktop. “Way Forward,” I named it boisterously. Every once in a while I add to it a few paragraphs about my goals, ways to prioritize them, and ways to implement them. Each entry is carefully dated, so I can gauge my progress. Which I do with relish, and I do not mince words with myself. The goals are predictable enough. They have to do with my many daily activities, such as writing, painting, walking, practicing yoga, eating and fasting, communicating with so many people around the world, and the like. To my surprise, the new file has already grown to nearly two-thousand words. The reason for this feverish activity is simple enough to fathom, as well. Except for Christmas and New Year’s, when Motovun will perk up a bit, there are more than four dark and quiet months until Easter, when the tourist season will slowly start again. More than four dark and quiet months… Without my new file, I could go nuts.

Addendum (January 24, 2021)

I was surprised when I came across this piece on one of my uncharted journeys through my writings. A new file on my computer desktop? Well, I now use it from time to time, but only for “technical” purposes, such as printing. Way forward? The best I could do was to go to my study and turn on the desktop, which was unplugged from the wall. It did not take me long to find the file in question, though. As it turned out, the last date in it went back fourteen years. And the file contained a bit more than six-thousand words only. So much for my goals, ways to prioritize them, and ways to implement them. Ever since my liberation, goals are history (“On Liberation,” October 4, 2017). To get there, one of the first steps is abandoning them forever.