Muted by a timetable

My phoenix is temporarily quietened by a beautiful new chart that I have stuck to my bedroom door so that I can’t miss it. It’s aim - to give me a programme for success. Or survival. Or a bit of both. This incredible week-plan life-tool sits within a framework of nearly arranged boxes of lush colour (or it will when I’ve worked out how to clean my magenta printer head. For now it is at least legible and pastel-based).

My mantra for 2025 is ‘I’m sticking to the programme’. When I spiral or start to overthink, that is what I’m going to tell myself. It emulates a working day, frontloads my gratitude journal and exercise and builds in time for creativity and spiritual stimulation. And time to cook a good meal for the boys each day. I know, right?! Wow! (I’m also working on an AI-supported food plan and if that comes off I will literally have nothing left to ask of the universe. Well, apart from a husband, a family home with a kitchen diner in the Welsh mountains and a new wardrobe.) (Oh, and some roller skates.)

The cynical among you may like to know that I listened to a podcast interview with a Buddhist monk who was asked, at the end, for one practical tip to give listeners that would bring positive change to their lives. I felt very smug when he said ‘ create a day plan that brings positive intention and energy to the forefront’. 

There was also this AI thing going round before NYE which invited you to write a vivid description of  your wildest dreams. Put it into AI. Ask AI to write a ‘ day in the life of’ extract for someone living these dreams. Then ask AI for the actions you need to take to make it all come true. Ok, so my ‘day in the life of’ did read like a page from a fairly crappy novel, but the list? Only a whisker away from WHAT I ALREADY HAD ON MY BEDROOM DOOR!!! HA!

A year of significance lies ahead and the first half is going to be particularly busy. So I’m keeping my sights fixed on that six month point of transition, without overthinking or sweating the detail. 

The chart came off the back of a revision timetable I created for my youngest. That the eldest then wanted a version of. They have GCSEs and A levels respectively this summer. And I have exams too - I’m developing another wellbeing side hussle to sit alongside the laughter yoga. 

Alongside this going on, I have to get back into gainful employment, having ended a maternity cover contract last summer, and then having my autumnal job search derailed by the news that my mum has only six months to live. 

That was back in October. And having done a lot of crying and mourning already, I realise that I can’t sit on my need to earn a living any longer. And I can’t let the exam balls fall. Hence the programme. And the hope. And the lush colours. 

Note: I am in the process of creating a vision board, which I’ll use to decorate around the sides of the timetable. I heard that visual images impact on the brain in a different way to words and numbers, and help you notice and reinforce positive imagery around you. I also have a magnificent 3D pink glittery, shiny seed-come-clitoris that I made in an artist friend’s ‘in residence workshop’ before Christmas. That is hanging in my bathroom and which I hope will spore in the steam.

Note: if you read this, please don’t bandy the news about my mum around, as she doesn’t really know. Or maybe she does. I don’t know.