The first time I tried a 365 project, I didn’t know it had a name. You know, “365 Project.”
Instead, I had been struggling. Feeling, as I later wrote, that I was “going nowhere.”
And, indeed, I was going nowhere fairly literally. My life looked much the same from day to day. Weekends, too. I was a mom in the Capital M sense. Not because I took the role on as my identity. Just because I took it on as my reality. I had my children, and I worked hard to give them everything I could, to help them enjoy and succeed in this world. Most of the time, that meant doing ordinary mom things right at home: cooking, cleaning, guiding, reading, teaching and, more often than I knew, picking up the emotional pieces of our lives.
Quite suddenly, it seemed, I fell into a depression, which was not like me.
Not like me, at all.
But, in fact, it was not suddenly. There were other, long-term factors at play that I would learn about later. Things that were fairly complex in relationships that, themselves, were going nowhere (or, rather, going, how shall we say it? East. When I was quite sure I’d originally gotten on a Westbound highway.)
Into this going-nowhere place came the idea to sit outside every day for a year, for at least 15 minutes. With a cup of tea. And no responsibilities. It would prove to be such a tremendous turning point that, years in the future, my older daughter would tell me, “Something changed for you that year. I was little, and I didn’t know how to put that into words. But I knew that something big had happened.”
She was right.
Can I tempt you to your own 365 Project?
I can tell you at least three things that happened for me, that might happen for you, too:
Doing something specific for 365 days gave me so much material to work with that I eventually culled two books from the experience: a poetry collection and a memoir. Count this article, too, if you like. And I have other book ideas still tucked in my back pocket. All from one 365 Project. So, a 365 Project can:
give you valuable material to work with for other creative endeavorsI found a dependable space to breathe. And this gave me clarity on many things in my life. You might not want clarity. Maybe you want escape. I think a 365 Project can do that, too so if you try a 365 Project you might:
get either clarity or escapeThe daily promise of the 365 Project gave me purpose and hope, at at time when I felt so sad that I hardly recognized my own self. Purpose heals us. Hope leads us on.
It’s not that the sadness went away. It didn’t. Not for a while.
But the 365 Project held me together, gave me something to look forward to, and ultimately provided new experiences to work with in my creative life. I wrote more during that year than I ever had or ever have since. So a 365 Project could just:
hold you together and give you purpose
If you get tempted to try a 365 Project, I hope you’ll explore. And, remember, this is Things Begun and Never Done. Trying a project doesn’t mean you need to finish it. While, once upon a time, I also finished a (painful!) Going Bookless 365 Project, I never did finish The Year of Bread.
See what suits your taste. Play around. I’ll be here smiling for you.
As always,
L.L.
OK, I am tempted. And thinking of one or two or seven contenders for this daily practice / ritual / pursuit / experiment / gift.
I've been having fun for the last couple weeks collecting the pieces that will make up my daily practice. My colorful quest. I have some of the elements already in place and I am thinking there may be one more...