Each year I was in Arizona, a group of us would gather near the changing of the year and spend an evening with stacks of old magazines and glue sticks, sharing and enjoying our community as we made vision boards for the coming year. Some approached it with specific ideas in mind; I let intuition lead me to specific pictures and phrases that I then glued onto my poster board. Sometimes this clarified what I wanted in the coming year, sometimes it was just fun. But always, there were a few key words that reflected something I needed to work on.
Those key words made their way to my motivational board—a collage pinned onto a bulletin board that hangs in my workroom. I spent the better part of a day last week rearranging this board, printing out inspirational phrases, reviewing everything on it. The key words from years of vision boards are still there, their prominence determined by how much reminding I need to incorporate them into my daily life—things like balance, focus, and process.
What’s not on it? Photos of my kids and grandkids—those are in another place in my home, not my workroom. They are enormously important in my life and always present in my being, but they are not the reason I write. That comes from the core of me that existed long before they were born. So the photos on my motivational board are of me as a confident little girl and an adventurous traveler. There’s also a striking headshot from my twenties, when I wanted to be an actress. There’s a newspaper clip I’ve kept since I was fourteen, about making the world a better place to be, and quotes that strengthen my resolve to keep trying. There’s a photocopy of the first check I received for writing work and photographs I’ve taken that remind me writing is not my only creative endeavor.
What else is not on it? Specific goals and my writing credits—I post my accomplishments for the past year and goals for the current in a different place.
My motivational board is about supporting who I am and why I create—the force within.