Day 365: The Case for 365 Hours
Today is Day 365! The last day of my 365 day project. And with this blog post, I am completing my 365 hours. I am happy to report that The Donald will not get $3,650 of my hard-earned money (Jesse is also very happy to report this).
One year ago today, I woke up extra early, picked up a pen and took a step toward who, what and how I wanted to be. I had no idea where this journey would lead me or exactly where I aimed to go, but I intuited a general direction and sought to get moving as soon as possible.
The exercise and discipline of writing for 365 hours in 365 days fundamentally changed my goals and aspirations: from retiring as a teacher in however many years my pension allowed, to becoming a published author and eventually sharing that passion with more children on a larger scale.
Mostly, it helped me see I have as good a chance as anyone of reaching that lofty goal–better, in fact, as I already have 365 days experience in prioritizing my writing and I have unearthed some of the vitally important stories I have to tell. I might not reach that goal soon, of course, but eventually. Luck plays a part, sure, but a year of writing, making connections and speaking to lots and lots of people has helped me understand publishing more fully as an industry and a job like any other.
The writing and personal exploration of the past year has deeply altered my identity, prompting me to ask questions I have avoided my entire life, sending me on a search for my birth family, and even changing my name.
One year later, I have taken many, many steps. And although I know more steps lay ahead of me than behind me, the path I aim to walk now appears crystal clear. I have faced many tests in completing my challenge, but experienced at least as many joys and triumphs. And I remain energized and excited to see where my continued journey takes me.
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So, here is the case for 365 days and 365 hours of practice in whatever YOU want to do. Whatever will bring you closer to yourself. Whatever gnaws at you. Whatever you are most afraid of, yet simultaneously suspect you can’t not do.
This should be something one can gain mastery of, but never fully master. A practice that has no end point, that can keep going or offering a challenge over days and years.
Examples include: any artistic pursuit, like painting, music, quilting, photography, making or building something, like woodworking or pottery, learning a new language, cooking or gardening, yoga, tai chi, any athletic pursuit, something technological, such as programming, a complex game like chess or bridge, or money management such as managing a budget, running a small business or investing.
Where could you be in a year if you made a commitment to that still, small, voice inside of you that whispers, “Why not me?”
The 365 day, 365 hour approach works because:
It builds muscle memory. Practicing something for one hour, every day for a year builds muscle memory so you can do it without so much initial effort or you can climb to new levels of challenge and complexity. Also, your body builds muscle memory in other ways. For example, I now wake up at 5:30 AM habitually, with my tools in place waiting for me and feel ready to write.
Practice makes better. Practicing something for one hour daily makes you better at that skill or pursuit. Over the course of time, you learn things by doing, by seeking out more information to improve, and through feedback from various sources (such as readers, speaking partners, and/or the clock). In his book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell popularized the idea that 10,000 hours of practice leads to mastery and, while oversimplified in the popular imagination, it remains true that one can’t master a skill without significant amounts of deliberate practice.
So, 365 hours in 365 days constitutes an initial step on the road to mastery. And for those considering painting, world travel or investing themselves in some other activity upon retirement, 365 multiplied by 27 years, leaves one pretty much a master right about when a traditional job would be ending.
It shifts priorities and adds accountability. As a full-time teacher, a mother of two and a person, other work, stressors and leisure activities have frequently tugged me away from my writing time this year. Even while trying to maintain a positive routine, get enough sleep, and plan for the unexpected, myriad events and occurrences have thrown me off course. The kids or I get sick, a new student upends the management and dynamics of my classroom, the Phillies make it to the World Series and force me to watch way too much baseball, too late at night.
As always, life happens. But knowing I would owe He Who Must Not Be Named $3,650 if I failed to reach my goal was a pretty staunch motivator when I got behind. And, like the Phillies in that in a record-setting Game 1, I pulled it out
It fosters engagement with (possibly new) communities. Via my 365 day challenge, I have connected with multiple new communities: the Korean-Adoptee community, the academic community and the literary community, and I have built up something of a new community just by sharing my passion and my struggles on this blog. As I continue on my journey, those communities will support me in new endeavors and celebrate new milestones with me.
It allows room for surprise, inspiration and grace. In our information-overload world, where we all run constantly jam-packed schedules, holding onto just one hour per day only for oneself creates a tiny sliver of room for the unexpected. This one hour can offer new insights, surprises, serendipity, joy and grace that the daily grind would otherwise inhibit.
It forces one to engage in a process, with results unknown. Similar to creating space for the unexpected, embarking on a 365 day, 365 hour journey emphasizes process over results. For many, in our professional and even personal lives, results, metrics and deliverables dominate all. However, this way of thinking proves limited, especially when considering a pursuit that will not yield “results” quickly or easily, or when the path is unclear. As uncomfortable as it feels to not know the ending, sometimes embracing and sitting in that discomfort–going through the process–proves just the ticket for, ultimately, moving in the right direction.
For me it was writing. What is it for you?
If you were to tug on that tiny thread of interest, seek out that small spark of inspiration inside you–maybe wholly unrelated to anything you are known for, have done professionally, or would even, at this point, admit to friends and family you are into–what would it be?
Maybe, without an agenda, without knowing where it will lead, you could just start. Just piece together 60 minutes a day (wake up one hour earlier, or sneak in 15 minutes here, 35 there another 10 later), gather your courage, and begin.