It’s now 2026, which is surreal. Time seems to go faster every year, but that’s especially true of 2025. It went by in a blink of an eye, and now we’re in 20266. It seems impossible, but it’s true. I floated through 2025, not doing much of anything. I want to do more in 2026, but I need to be realistic. I am not a ‘do ten things a day person’, no matter how much I want to be one. Also, I am not going to go to bed before 4 a.m. Let me just admit it. In fact, it’s 4 a.m. now, and I’m just starting this post.
I have several poals I want to meet in the new year, but there are three major ones that I have at the top of my list. I’ll go through those first and then maybe tackle the others if I have time (and the will). These are not in any particular order.
1. I will write the first draft ofmy novemoir.
Yes, I’m still insiting on calling my writing project that as a mash-up of novel and memoir. I want to write the rough draft, which will be roughly 200+ pages. Probably more, but I’m making a safe estimate.
Let me break that down even further.
A. I will write an hour a day.
In the past, I have said that I will write 2,000 words a day. That was not a problem for the most part back before my medical crisis. I wrote 2,000 words every day for the better part of several years. Maybe a decade? I’m not sure, but it’s many years.
Ever since my medical crisis, though, I’ve been struggling. In the past, I have had novels galore in my brain, and I easily wrote the rough drafts like they were no big thing. For the life of me, I cannot get this one done. But, more to the point, I have not dedicated myself to doing it. It’s partly because I have not had to work for it in the past that I’m not good at steadily applying myself to something.
I want to make my goals reasonable so that I can actually attain them. This is the one that is the hardest, so I’m setting small goals.
B. If I can do A for a month, then I’ll move it to 2 hours.
This seems like a good mid-goal because it’s very doable. I can write 2,000 words in 2 to 3 hours if I’m steadily writing. If I can do one hour a day for January, then I’l lmove to two hours a day. By the way, I’m counting until I go to bed taht night as that day. So this would still be the last day in December in my mental files until I actually go to bed.
C. If I can do B for a month, then I’ll think about moving to 2,000 words a day.
Ideally, this is my sweet spot. I used to do this with ease, and I would like to get back to here again. I’m going to give myself two months at two hours a night before moving onto 2,000 words a day. If I can dedicate myself to two months of two hours a day, then I can try 2,000 words a day again.
Look. I know I can do it. I’ve done it before–even after my medical crisis. I just have a block in my brain about it at the moment, and I don’t know how to get past it.
One thing I know about myself, though. I have to trick my brain to do things that I want it to do, but that it doesn’t necessarily want to do. I’ve learned that’s part of being neurogdivergent, which was such a relief, honestly.
K and I got into an argument several months ago. She expressed some conrcern about how widespread mental health diagnoses seem to be getting. She said something like, “We dealt with it when we were kids without it being such a big deal.” I retorted that some of us dealt with it by being depressed, self-harming, and other negative behaviors (which she knew as well as I did from her own childhood).
We came to an understanding (you still have to live in this world no matter what diagnoses you received), but my point was that I would have been so relieved to know it wasn’t just in my head. That I was not just a weirdo who didn’t belong in this world, that my brain was expressly different. That I wasn’t weak, lazy, or worthless. That while it seems bananas that I can’t just do the thing that is so easy to do until I literally force myself to do it, sometimes through tears.
Wow. That was me derailing myself once again, which is also a hallmark of being neurodivergent.
Let’s get to goal number two.
2. Teach myself the Bagua Deer Horn Knives Form that my teacher’s teacher created.
The Deer Horn Knives are my favorite weapon. Ever since my teacher put a pair into my hands and taught me how to walk the circle, I had been waiting for the day when I could learn a Deer Horn Knives Form. I wanted it to be the Swimming Dragon Form, but there isn’t one. Then, I saw the video of my teacher’s teacher doing this form, and I knew that this was the one. It includes walking the circle, which is something I still do every day.
I should be able to teach myself the whole thing this year. It’s not going to be as hard as the Double Fan Form. Or rather, it better not be. That form took everything out of me in a way that I was not expecting. I love the form, don’t get me wrong. It is elegant, beautiful, and evocative. But, boy. If I had known what I know now, I’m not sure I would have done it.
It’s so funny. Do I love the form? Yes. Am I glad I taught it to myself? Also yes. Would I do it again given what I know? I don’t know. Probably because I’m stubborn like that, but it was so fucking hard. Way harder than I thought it was going to be. So hard it made me doubt everything I knew about myself. But, also so hard that I felt incredibly satisfied when I finally finished teaching it to myself.
Yes, there was a period of time when I thought I was never going to get it done. I doubted myself and my abilities, it’s true. That made the end that much sweeter, and I am very proud of myself for sticking to it. I didn’t have to do that. No one was holding me to it except me. Oh, and I want to polish it up because it’s still ragged. There are a few postures I need to clear up, but I’m in no hurry. I’m still reveling over the fact that I finished it, even though it took over twice as long as I thought it was going to take. Three months. I was so naive.
When I told my teacher that it had forty-eight postures, she said that was a lot. I have no idea how many postures the rest of the forms I know have. In addition, each one only takes a few minutes to do–except the Solo (Long) Form.
I will write more about this tomorrow.