Got to pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues--and you know it don't come easy

'Where to begin?--that was the question at what point to make the first mark? One line placed on the canvas committed her to innumerable risks, to frequent and irrevocable decisions. All that in idea seemed simple became in practice immediately complex; as the waves shape themselves symmetrically from the cliff top, but to the swimmer among them are divided by steep gulfs, and foaming crests. Still the risk must be run; the mark must be made.' 

(From To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf)

My worst habit, if you can call it that, is my inability to collect all the ends of my whims and goals together to make a tight bundle, a neat ball of yarn from which to weave something solid and certain, so that I am left always harebrained, chasing after a confused assortment of loose threads. I lack focus. It's difficult for me to organise myself properly. I find it hard to plod determinedly after one goal, instead becoming quickly frustrated when I'm unable to achieve perfection instantly, right from the very first step. I'm alarmed by the first untidy splatters of paint on the canvas and, disappointed and dismayed, forgetting the larger picture my strokes will eventually make, give up easily. I drop one thread to chase some other fresh and promising plan. Of course, inevitably, I trip: I become entangled in the muddle of different aspirations and projects I've let fall slack at my feet, and end up a sorry, harried mess. I achieve nothing.

If the first step to solving a problem like this is identifying it--what then is the second? I think I need to learn to pursue my goals more doggedly, even when certain steps along the way seem dreary and dull. It's not that I'm afraid to work hard. What I'm frightened of is failure, of aiming for perfection and missing the mark. Perhaps I need to lower the bar, though, and just get to it. As long as I insist on perfection or nothing, I'll always be disheartened by whatever efforts I make. Perhaps, too, there's something to be said for working hard to be good--no, excellent--at one or two things, rather than merely competent at a vast number of things. Yes, it's admirable to be highly accomplished in many fields, but it's not necessarily realistic to assume that I'll be able to attain greatness in everything I do if I choose to go after too many tasks or ideas all at once. 

For now, with exams and deadlines looming, I need first to centre myself and focus my mind on the jobs directly at hand, one at a time. I've tripped again, yes. I still don't seem to have learnt my lesson this year, and I've taken on too much, become ensnared. I want to berate myself and weep dramatic tears of frustration, and yet, really, if I'm honest: there's nothing much to do but get up. I know why I've fallen, and it's time to fix it so that it won't happen again (or at least, so as to ensure that my next tumble won't be quite so spectacular!). Focus, focus, focus.