I just came across the following idea in Chellie Campbell’s The Wealthy Spirit: Children have “I can hardly waits” while adults mostly have “I can hardly stand its.” Children are usually looking forward to something—school being out, a birthday, an exciting milestone. While adults, well, we are more often NOT looking forward to something—often those same somethings the kids are looking forward to!

I don’t know about you, but I thought being an adult would be more fun. Instead, I’m having my roof replaced, having the leaky dishwasher fixed and fighting the traffic while the county repaves the road that runs just outside my subdivision.  Fortunately, I’ve just remembered that I am the boss of me—and it’s time to follow Campbell’s advice to those of us with “I can’t stand its”: “Find something to look forward to with joy and focus on that.” 

But what if there’s nothing we especially look forward to? It’s time to schedule something! Maybe plan a summer trip, or buy tickets to a show or sporting event we want to see. If that’s not possible (and even when it is), schedule something smaller in the meantime. Plan to rent a movie and eat popcorn on Friday night with your spouse. Make a lunch date with a friend. Decide that at 8:30 tonight, you’ll curl up in bed with a good book. Just choose something you’ll enjoy and look forward to. Write these anticipated pleasures down in your calendar or on your to-do list.

I’m willing to bet you’re all fine, upstanding, law-abiding, tax-paying individuals. You give to those around you—now give to yourself. Give yourself something to look forward to. Simple pleasures and everyday adventures don’t plan themselves, you know. As for me, I’m looking forward to a visit from my two sisters-in-law, a Field Trip Friday involving a flea market, and a production of Annie at the local performing arts center. 

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Stories read to us as children can stay with us all our lives. Robert McCloskey’s Lentil was especially influential for me, and other books have helped to shape you. Here’s Matt Mason, who lives in Omaha, with a book that many of you will remember.

The Story of Ferdinand the Bull

Dad would come home after too long at work

and I’d sit on his lap to hear

the story of Ferdinand the Bull; every night,

me handing him the red book until I knew

every word, couldn’t read,

just recite along with drawings

of a gentle bull, frustrated matadors,

the all-important bee, and flowers—

flowers in meadows and flowers

thrown by the Spanish ladies.

Its lesson, really,

about not being what you’re born into

but what you’re born to be,

even if that means

not caring about the capes they wave in your face

or the spears they cut into your shoulders.

And Dad, wonderful Dad, came home

after too long at work

and read to me

the same story every night

until I knew every word, couldn’t read,

                                                                                                  just recite.

Saturday I completed my 31 Days of Sketching challenge—and I’m proud to say I didn’t miss a day! On most days I spent at least 15 minutes sketching and/or painting, and there were only a couple of days that I scraped together a few minutes and a few pencil strokes just so I could say I’d sketched. Winter Interrupted came at a good time and helped me add watercolor sketches to my sketchbook. I posted all my sketches on Flickr. (Belle of Belle, Book, and Candle took up the challenge as well, and you can see her sketches here.)

I wanted to become more comfortable sketching, and to make it more a part of my life instead of just done every now and then. I’m still not as comfortable as I’d like, and I did find that I didn’t experiment as much as I would have if I weren’t posting my sketches publicly.  Of course, I could have chosen not to post, but that felt like cheating. This tells me that I still care too much what others think. I don’t like to share my mistakes or what I think will be perceived as not very good. I will continue sketching, though probably not every day. I have several ideas for more sketchbook pages from Winter Interrupted, as well as (ahem) pages I want to complete from our New England trip a year and a half ago.

The month-long challenge seems to work well for me. It’s both finite and concrete; long enough to see progress, but short enough not to be overwhelming or boring. These challenges keep me focused when my natural tendency is to be easily distracted by new and shiny ideas or projects. So what’s next? I’m leaning towards a horsemanship challenge for the month of February. I’m off to a poor start because I did nothing horse-related yesterday—but I could still pick it up today. Do I need that concrete, I-will-do-this-every-day structure? I suspect yes. I could easily do a horsey thing every day, whether it’s play with Tank, finally watch the horsemanship DVDs gathering dust in my bedroom, or delve into the books, articles and internet research on horse topics that I seldom seem to have time to get into. There is tack to clean, or ground work exercises to try, and, of course, February is a lovely month for riding. I’d love to see my riding and horsemanship skills take a big leap forward.

I’ve had mixed success with the word of the year concept. While I’ve learned from and tried to permanently incorporate the connotations of my previous words of the year (open, light, passion, and the “secret” word I never wrote about in 2014, brave), I have not always felt that I fully embraced the concept. I tend to set a word of the year and mostly forget it, rather than draw on it for inspiration and guidance throughout the year.

In contemplating this situation, I realized that previous words had something in common: they were ways in which I wanted to change myself. And while self-improvement and change are good, and I’m certainly not saying I don’t need to continue to change and grow, I am, frankly, tired. In 2015, I need less struggle and more flow. Just for a little while, I want to leave myself alone and become more accepting of who I am right now.

So this year’s word of the year is…

—drumroll—

Delight.

Delight does not require that I struggle to be something I’m not. I don’t have to strive for it. I just have to pay attention to the delight that already exists in my life, and to actively seek delight in all that I do. Delight gives me permission to enjoy life, to turn my attention onto what’s going well rather than focus on what I want to be different. With delight to guide me, I’ll be more likely to say yes to what sounds fun, as well as look for the pleasure in all the everyday tasks and responsibilities I have.

I don’t have to look far to find things that delight me: my wonderful animals, a stack of books to read, blooming orchids, a good cup of coffee, the jumble of art supplies stacked in my office. I’m easy to please, and choosing delight as word of the year seems like something to look forward to!

I’ve read that we attract what we focus on. I’m eager to see just how much delight I can draw into my life in 2015. I’ll keep you posted.

What delights you? Have you chosen a word of the year? Do share.