shaping up

In the last two weeks I wrote about my reading and study goals for the year and beyond. This week I’m looking at health and fitness. I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that physical activity is good for one’s intellect and memory as well, so it’s all connected, really, and it would be remiss of me to not set some goals here too.

I actually wrote this post in mid-January, and scheduled it to be published almost three weeks later, so hopefully I’ve made more progress, or otherwise this will help serve as a reminder to myself about what I’m supposed to be doing!

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a revision of goals and reading

[This post is a continuation from my post last week about reading goals.]

Going from reading to study, I’ve decided to commit at least another two years to my self-guided Persian/Farsi studies. I think I will need the rest of this year to finish working my way through the text book I bought, and then another year to be able to read The Little Prince and other texts that my friend has lent me. I’m not sure that all of this will enable me to hold an actual conversation with someone, but I hope I can reach a level of proficiency that I’m happy with and that my friend approves of.

And while on the topic of study, I suppose I ought to announce some sort of commitment to my CPD (continuing professional development). Last year, I attained the requisite 40 CPD points reasonably early on in the year, and very much neglected it for the rest of the year in favour of Persian and other things. Now I’m at a point where I feel like my knowledge is not nearly as polished as it used to be, and I realise I need to make this a regular thing rather than a “cram as many CPD activities into the shortest amount of time” thing. This will probably mean regular reading of Pharmacy journals, and maybe watching online lectures when I can.

new reading (anti-)goals

So it’s pretty much halfway through January now, but I’m going to do this post anyway. Besides, they’re not necessarily 2019-specific anyway, so what does it matter?

Being the reflective person that I am, of course I already thought about what I want to achieve in the new year, what I want to change, and what I want to improve on. I just haven’t gotten around to writing it all down, which has actually made me a bit anxious because I do like having things written down in case I forget or lose sight of something.

Having all this written down — and published here — is, I suppose, also good for accountability. (I have vague recollections of the last time I posted about goals/resolutions, and certain friends would, now and then, ask me how I was going with them, so I really did have to make some regular effort.)

[The original post turned out much longer than I expected, so I’ve split it in three. This post and the second one (which I’ll schedule to publish next week) are about literary and intellectual goals. The third post, about health and fitness, will be published a week after the second one. It actually might work in my favour to stagger these posts like that, since it might serve as a reminder of what I’m supposed to be doing.]

feel free to disagree

I have what most would call a fear of heights. I prefer to call it a fear of falling from great heights, since, if I feel secure and not at risk of falling, I can stand in high places without much anxiety. But I wonder if maybe I’m not afraid of heights or falling at all.

For a long time now, believing that I have this fear, I have at times challenged myself to peer from great heights to places and things far below. For example, if I am in one of those kinds of elevators that have glass walls, I will watch the lower floors as they become more and more distant. If I happen to go to an observation deck or some other high-up balcony or vantage point of a very tall building, I will go right up to the railing and look out.

adrift

As we enter a new year, and a lot of people are contemplating what they want to achieve, what they want to change, or what they want to keep and nourish; I, quite honestly, feel a little lost. But maybe not so much lost as “adrift” or “suddenly aware that I’ve been adrift for a while, riding the gentle waves of a lake, no longer sure what shore I left from or which bank I need to go to”.

Of course, there’s nothing inherently wrong with the situation – there’s no storm brewing, no predator beneath the surface of the water, no structural problem with the boat, or shortage of supplies – but I feel a little adrift.