I learned about vision boards earlier this year. I think I’d probably heard of them before that, but never really paid attention. It wasn’t until I had a nice big cork board I wasn’t using for anything that it crossed my mind—and then only because I came across a video on YouTube where an author was talking about a vision board for her career. It sounded interesting. And I had a board, so maybe it was worth looking into.
I have to admit I didn’t think much of many things I read. Long articles about the law of attraction didn’t do anything for me—while I surely believe we reap what we sow, I’ve never felt particularly moved by the notion that deciding I would have something would make it gravitate to me. Lots of things in life are conscious decisions. But the best predictor of success is work.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t envision the things I want, so that was what I decided to make the focus of my board. A combination of things that are important to me, things that inspire me, things I want to achieve, and things I treasure. A board of dreams and aspirations, with an extra emphasis on what I already have that makes my life amazing. I selected some photos of my family, things I hope to achieve, things I hope to create, and sprinkled in snapshots of things that are beautiful to me or helpful to me as a creative, such as some positive comments left by editors.
I put my mockup cover for a book I want to publish more than anything in the middle of one side, and put covers of other titles I’ve published or am working on around the edges. I pinned it all against some pretty colored paper to make it a little cheerier, then put the board on my desk.
It’s a pretty picture of what I want. Simple things that bring be happiness, time with the people I love, and a few lofty ambitions, too (that Shelby GT500 Mustang isn’t buying itself…) just to keep me motivated to move forward.
Most importantly, though, everything I put on the board was realistic. Things I can make happen, things I can achieve, nothing that makes me feel discouraged or less than or like I’m lagging behind. It strikes a balance between what I have and what I dream of, and helps keep me focused on joy. With pictures of my daughter’s smiling face on the board, how could it do anything else?
I don’t think it’ll make me any more likely to get those things. I don’t think pinning them on a board makes them any more real or more likely to happen. But they’re happy reminders, and for me, that’s what counts.