I am a Getting Things Done disciple. Have you read it? David Allen (author) is a productivity guru, and his system, fondly referred to as GTD by his many followers, is an exquisitely simple, utterly perfect method for effortlessly controlling all of one's ideas, to do's, projects, dreams, notes, deadlines and commitments. It only works if you make it work, though, and I am an imperfect student. But I'm working on it.
In an inadequately tiny nutshell, the system largely consists of turning everything that requires your attention into a project that you can track (it's way easier than it sounds), and only focusing on the NEXT ACTION. I have a list of about 100 next actions that represent the very next step I need to take to move everything in my life forward, from developing a writing career to renewing my license plate stickers. The List, and my calendar, are all I need. Every Monday I sit down and redo the list, and go over all my projects. The rest of the week, the List is all I have to refer to, to decide what to do.
An inevitable part of this fantastic process is that things which had seemed like far-off dreams start to take shape, and you unwittingly start to push yourself out of your comfort zone. It can be a very uncomfortable thing, reaching for your dreams.
One Monday, several months ago, I found myself creating a new project called Career Expansion. It included all kinds of things, from writing a book, to crocodile-wrangling school in Florida, to opening my Etsy shop. The Etsy shop idea led to a flurry of craft-making, and one night dear Hubby said to me, "Why don't you take those down to that shop you like and ask the owner if she wants to sell them?"
And that's how I happen to find myself with an uncomfortable Action on my List. Take card and embroidery samples to gift shop- talk to owner.
It seems easy, but gee-whiz I'm nervous! What do I say???
Hi! Look what I made! Do you like them?
Hello, I'd like to propose a business partnership with you.
Hey, do I have a deal for you!
Do I give them to her and then leave? Do I stare at her until she makes a decision on the spot? What if she doesn't like them?
I'm sure I won't be quite as awkward as I'm afraid I'll be. Fear of rejection brings out the worst in the imagination. But I feel like I'm going to do Show and Tell with a complete stranger. Eek. I'm trying to remember all the times in my life I've done something I was afraid to do, and how great it felt afterward.
I'm going to package up what I have this weekend, make it look as pretty as I can, and take it to her on Monday (with adorable baby on-hip, of course).
Wish me luck!