Page 415 of 415: The Power of Showing Up (Even in Bed)

“Dripping water hollows out stone, not through force but through persistence.”

Ovid (43 BCE – 17/18 CE; Roman poet best known for his works Metamorphoses and The Art of Love. his works shaped Western literature and narratives of perseverance.)

Voila! As I finished uploading the last essay into my MS Word document, I glanced at the upper-right corner and smiled:

Page 415 of 415

Wow! That’s a lot of pages.

And when I looked down at the lower-left corner, my smile stretched from ear to ear:

100,740 words

Wow! That’s a lot of words.

Yet, the more that I thought about it, the more I realized that it’s really not a big deal.

Here’s why. I write in bed every night. Every single night. Got it? It has nothing to do with being in the mood. Nothing to do with being inspired. It has everything to do with showing up. Everything to do with showing up as a “writer in bed,” 365 nights a year. From that perspective, if I look at the total word count, I’m writing around 276 words a night. That’s not a lot.

But here’s the thing—once I set the goal, I follow through. Same time. Same place. Night after night. A fierce determination to write until I’m sleepy.

The payoff? Immense.

● A blog post, every week.

● A 415-page manuscript, totaling 100,740 words.

It gets better. As a result of showing up–as a result of follow-through–those words and those pages are now in the hands of my publisher, and my third collection of essays will be out this spring. The Third Time’s the Charm: Still Foolin’ Around in Bed.

Now you know. My writing secret is out.

I show up. I’m present. I write.

Then I follow through. I carry my writing intent forward, determined to have a blog post ready every Monday morning. Determined to have a collection of 52 or so creative nonfiction essays ready at the end of the year.

There’s a beautiful simplicity in what I’m doing that points to something true. Much of success, growth, and connection in life happens because we keep showing up and following through. Even if we’re not perfect, that steady presence builds momentum.

As we enter the first full week of 2025, we can all benefit from that truth especially as we tackle our New Year’s resolutions, even if we made just one.

One resolution is the lump sum of how many I made! It has nothing to do with my nighttime writing. Instead, it has to do with my morning biking routine, something I’ve done indoors for decades. Every day, without fail, I mount my faithful Schwinn and aim to hit at least 15 miles daily, most days 20. I’m attentive. I pedal 20-23 miles per hour, always exceeding Fitbit’s Zone minutes, customized just for me.

Several weeks ago, however, Fitbit launched a Cardio Load feature that intrigued me. It’s similar to Training Load metrics seen in high-end fitness watches (like Garmin or Polar), but Fitbit simplifies it for everyday users like me to easily track and interpret their progress. It measures the strain that my cardiovascular system experiences during physical activity. It reflects the cumulative impact of my workouts over time, helping me understand how hard my heart is working and whether I’m training too much, too little, or just right.

As might be expected, my biking routine had pedaled me perfectly into the cardiovascular sweet spot of excellence. But guess what? When it comes to Cardio Load, it’s not sweet at all. The first day that I tried it–biking the same way I’ve biked forever and a day–I discovered that I didn’t hit my recommended Cardio Load at all. Damn!

I knew at once what my resolution would be. Keep on biking with a goal of hitting my daily Cardio Load recommendations. It’s not easy. I have to pedal at least 23-24 miles per hour, plus I have to bike in longer stints to achieve intensity. I can tell when I get into my zone: it’s like crossing into fire—my legs pumping molten steel and my lungs drinking in the heat. My skin hums, sweat rolls in rivulets, but beneath it all, I feel power—sharp and alive, burning just right.

Easy? Hell no. But I am resolved to show up every day and follow through with the Cardio Load that Fitbit recommends for me. I know fully well that my body will face a learning curve, but I’m committed to biking my way to improved endurance and fitness. Every day, I’ll be hopping on my Schwinn, fiercely determined to chase down my Cardio Load and crush it!

Fitness and health resolutions are probably at the top of your list, too—exercising more, losing weight, meditating, or maybe just getting better sleep. Whatever your goal, it’s not about overhauling your life overnight. It’s about showing up—one walk, one salad, one deep breath at a time. Small shifts add up, and before you know it, you’ve walked hundreds of miles or made it through January without stress-eating half your pantry.

Or maybe you’ve decided to focus on personal growth and education. Maybe you resolved to read more books, to learn a new skill or hobby, to take a class, to continue your formal education, or to journal regularly. Whatever your goal, it’s not about mastering everything at once. It’s about showing up—one chapter, one class, one messy journal entry at a time. Growth isn’t loud and immediate; it’s quiet and steady, and those small steps lead to bigger shifts before you even realize it.

Chances are good that many of you made resolutions aimed at strengthening your relationships and social life. Maybe you resolved to communicate more effectively, spend more quality time with family and friends, meet new people and expand your social circles, or strengthen your romantic relationships. Whatever your goal, it’s not about grand gestures. It’s about showing up—one call, one coffee date, one honest conversation at a time. Relationships grow in the quiet spaces we choose to fill with presence and care.

Even if you didn’t make it a formal resolution—though I’m betting you did—we can all work on improving our mindset and perspective. Maybe this year you want to let go of grudges, worry less, stop sweating the small stuff, or practice gratitude. Perhaps you just want to be more present in the moment. Whatever your goal, it’s not about perfecting your outlook overnight. It’s about showing up—one deep breath, one pause, one small shift in focus at a time. The mind, like anything else, grows stronger with steady attention and care.

And what about your determination this year to give back and engage more with your community? Maybe you want to volunteer regularly, take part in local initiatives, or donate to causes close to your heart. Whatever your goal, it’s not about making startling, sweeping changes. It’s about showing up—one hour, one act of kindness, one moment of service at a time. The smallest efforts ripple outward, and before you know it, you’re part of something larger than yourself.

Maybe at the top of your list are spiritual and inner growth resolutions. Perhaps you’re looking to deepen your practice through meditation, prayer, or daily reflection. Maybe you want to live with more intention—focusing on mindfulness and being present. Or you might feel drawn to reconnect with nature, simplifying life by clearing distractions and grounding yourself in what truly matters. Maybe, just maybe, you’re leaning in—trusting the process of living, embracing faith, patience, and the unknown.

Whatever your goal, it’s not about achieving enlightenment overnight. It’s about showing up—one quiet moment, one breath, one step toward stillness at a time. The soul, like anything else, finds its way forward through presence and gentle persistence.

Of course, plenty of other resolutions might top your list this year—ones I won’t dive into but are just as worthy of your focus. Maybe you’re aiming to advance your career, start a new project, or finally wrangle your calendar into submission. Perhaps finances are front and center—saving more, paying down debt, or planning for the future. Or maybe this is the year you let loose, travel more, dive into creative passions, and rediscover what brings you joy.

Whatever your goal, the same truth applies. It’s not about conquering everything in one fell swoop. It’s about showing up—one task, one small win, one brushstroke at a time. Progress happens quietly, and before long, those little moments stack up into something bigger than you imagined.

Here we are—the first full week of the New Year—riding high on resolutions we’ve made but probably won’t keep. But it doesn’t have to be that way. Life isn’t about whims or midnight promises made in a champagne haze. Real change doesn’t happen because the clock strikes twelve. It happens when we show up the next morning—and the one after that—and follow through.

The stroke of midnight might spark the idea, but it’s the steady steps after that turn resolutions into something real. That’s how I ended up with 415 pages, 100,740 words, and another book in the works—one sleepy night at a time.

“Stop Looking, So You Can See Where You’re Going.”

“The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.”

Stephen Covey (1932–2012; leadership expert and author of the bestselling book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.)

All couples have a courtship phase, I suppose, and Allen and I were no exception. At one point, he was a traveling surgical technologist in upstate New York. We connected midway in Hazelton, PA, for long weekends together. One stands out in my memory as vividly as if it had happened yesterday. We were exploring Ricketts Glen State Park, home to the Glens Natural Area, a designated National Natural Landmark. Our plan was to follow the Falls Trail System so that we could take in the glens, where a series of untamed, free-flowing waterfalls tumble through rocky chasms carved into the hillside. Towering old-growth trees and a variety of wildlife enhance the natural beauty of the area. The crisp autumn air carried the faint roar of distant waterfalls, hinting at the adventure ahead.

The rumble of my two-door Jeep Wrangler echoed through the park as I navigated the winding roads, though “navigated” might be too generous a term. My hands rested lightly on the wheel, but my eyes were far from the road ahead. I was preoccupied by everything around me—the way the sunlight pierced through the canopy, dappling the ground with shifting patterns; the flash of a deer darting between the trees; the ripple of a stream running parallel to the road.

Every turn seemed to unveil something new—a stand of old-growth timber with gnarled branches twisting skyward, a cluster of huge rocks that looked like they’d been placed there deliberately, and the ever-present cascade of waterfalls, their spray catching the light like shards of glass. I felt my gaze wander again and again, lingering on the sights rather than the road. It wasn’t long before I realized that I wasn’t looking. I was losing track of where I was going, as if the Jeep were steering itself, and I was merely along for the ride.

I turned to Allen and exclaimed:

“I have to stop looking, so I can see where I’m going!”

“Say whaaat?”

“Yes. I have to stop looking, so I can see where I’m going! You look at the sights. I’ll focus on the road.”

Allen thought my comment was the funniest–and most ridiculous–thing that I had ever said. Throughout our twenty years together, he would look for any and every opportunity to teasingly remind me whenever I got distracted:

“Maybe you need to stop looking so you can see where you’re going.”

I laughed along with him, but over the years, I’ve come to realize that moment held more truth than I understood back then. That moment in the Jeep was more than a funny memory with Allen. It’s become a metaphor for how I approach life, especially at this time of year. The end of the year is like the winding road ahead of us, a time to pause, take stock of where we are, and decide how we want to navigate the twists and turns of the coming year. It’s easy to get distracted by everything around us, to try to take in too much at once. But clarity and focus—learning to “stop looking so we can see”—are the keys to achieving the goals that matter most. With clarity, we can set intentions that range from simple joys to profound transformations.

Let’s start with the simple goals, the ones that remind us to savor life’s small pleasures. These might seem minor in the grand scheme, but they ground us in the present moment and remind us of what it feels like to truly enjoy living. For me, this might mean experimenting with my sourdough pizza recipe to get that perfect balance of crisp and chew or revisiting my recipe for Sourdough Double Chip Crunch Cookies to enhance their texture. These pursuits are not about achieving perfection; they’re about immersing myself in the process, enjoying the creativity, and sharing the results with others.

Another source of joy for me is my garden. Whether it’s marveling at the tenacity of roots as I rework my peony bed or taking a step back to admire how my Koi Pond complements the Japanese-inspired landscaping, these moments of connection with nature remind me to slow down. Clarity here means carving out time for what nourishes the spirit—no matter how small or ordinary it may seem. These lighthearted goals are about reminding ourselves that life is rich with opportunities to pause and appreciate beauty.

Moving deeper, we come to goals that ask for more of us—those tied to our relationships, community, and self-care. These require intentionality, balance, and, most importantly, focus. For me, that might mean thoughtfully cultivating connections, such as inviting a neighbor to join me for dinner or reaching out to a friend to share a memory, a laugh, or a little gratitude. It’s about being present for others and making sure they feel valued.

At the same time, balance is key. I’m reminded of my online dating journey this year—how my profile reflects my true self while staying open to the possibilities ahead. It’s about embracing vulnerability while maintaining authenticity. Goals like this require clarity about what we value most in our relationships, whether it’s empathy, honesty, or simply the joy of shared experiences.

Self-care is another aspect of connection—this time with ourselves. It’s not just about routines but about listening to what we need to recharge. For me, it might be my daily biking to clear my head or listening to Black Gospel to feed my soul. Clarity here means recognizing that we can’t pour from an empty cup. These goals challenge us to strike the delicate balance between giving to others and nurturing ourselves.

And then there are the serious goals—the ones that stretch us, challenge us, and ultimately transform us. These require a willingness to dig deep and reflect on what truly matters. For me, this might involve continuing my exploration of “roots”—how the unseen foundations in our lives anchor us through uncertainty. This year, that theme surfaced in my writing and my gardening, reminding me that superficial fixes rarely work; it’s the deep work, often unseen, that brings lasting growth.

Another area of transformation is spirituality. Whether it’s reflecting on my Judeo-Christian principles or universal truths, I find that clarity in this realm often comes from leaning into questions rather than rushing to answers. I think, too, of the DNA test I took this year and how it invites me to explore not just where I’ve been but where I’m going. The results remind me of the rich identity that we each carry, and they prompt me to think about how we honor and build upon that in our daily lives.

Serious goals like these demand that we stop looking in every direction at once. They ask for stillness, focus, and trust. They require us to let go of distractions and be fully present with the questions, uncertainties, and hopes that guide us toward becoming our truest selves.

No matter the scope of the goal—whether it’s perfecting a recipe, strengthening a relationship, or embracing personal transformation—clarity of focus is what makes it possible. In the Jeep all those years ago, I realized that I couldn’t take in everything around me and still stay on the road. The same holds true as we navigate our lives. At times, we need to pause, set our sights on what truly matters, and let go of distractions to see the path before us.

As we stand at the threshold of a new year, I find myself reflecting on the power of clarity. It’s not about seeing everything—it’s about seeing clearly. So, as we step into 2025, I invite you to join me in setting goals that align with what matters most. Let’s stop looking in every direction and focus on where we’re going, one thoughtful, intentional step at a time.

Here’s to clearer roads, steady hands on the wheel, and the courage to keep moving forward. Happy New Year!