I had a wonderful quote come up on my feed today. What's better is that I put it there, from the bunch of quotes my father had collected on three by five index cards at the back of one of his contact file boxes:
What I need to realize is not how infinitesimal is the importance of anything I can do, but how infinitely important it is that I should do it.
This comes at a good time as I am once again going through Jim Rohn's Best Year Ever. He starts his talk with the importance of having a Philosophy, the set of the sail, a why that is worth a person's while, something that actually is important to me, or which is what would make what I do today infinitely important.
And now my Landmark comes back, as I am at the end of my day, and sat before this screen blank many, many hours ago. I don't recall who suggested it, but it's the point at which I get to look back at my day, and acknowledge myself for what I've done, to say what I've done is what was meant to be done, and what not was not, and let it be complete, but also let myself get wiser.
And realize that what sets the successful apart is a list of goals, which I wrote yesterday, and posting that somewhere where I see it every day, and let that be the opener and closer, my magic minute as Mark Joyner suggests, so that 2020 is the best year ever, and each year after that a bit more so.
It's what I wish I could have gotten pop to see, Jim's view that my X years is a gift of that many years experience that I bring to today, and today and today.
In my case, I kind of feel I've messed up most of the last twenty five years, but that's just experience for the next thirty or so, that's six five year plans still, or 120 quarters taking Ben's 90 day chunks as a base.
So it's time to chart a course with a little more direction, and then actually raise the damned sail so I move with a bit more intention.
And not for the result, but for who I get to be as I play those games.
So Happy New Year. Jim suggests the person that he'd like to work with is the one who actually feels strongly, and he's right. I'm excited, but I'm so disinclined to share/admit that. My little voice is still calling out for the safe, and it's time to be disgusted by that, rather than resigned to being disappointed with myself.