Archives for posts with tag: making a list

Each day as I begin the work day, I make a short list of my highest priorities. It’s generally a combination of items from the team’s project board, and items I have tagged for later from emailed requests and things communicated over messaging apps. Easy. My list is intended to help me focus. I follow a similar practice on weekend days, and on vacations. I make a list. I get things done. I check them off the list. This is a practice intended to limit distractions, and keep me focused on the things I want most to accomplish on a given day. Seems simple enough, and over a lifetime of practice (with making lists), it has generally served me well…only… there are some exceptions.

… When the list is too long, I sometimes find myself stalled, feeling overwhelmed. I don’t end up getting much done, at all.

… When the items on the list are poorly chosen in some way, I sometimes feel as if I’ve “gotten nothing done” that needed doing, in spite of possibly having worked down the list quite efficiently. I may have gotten things done, but the things I got done weren’t what most needed my attention that day.

… When I become distracted in the moment by some conversation or task that seems more interesting, I sometimes find that I’ve entirely failed to get the things I had identified as important completed at all. Maybe I still get things done, but likely not the things I intended to focus on.

I guess my point is that making a list isn’t enough. There’s a measure of discipline involved in staying focused on priorities identified in advance. There’s a matter of will (even just to keep going at all some days). Then, too, there’s the matter of boundary setting and preserving capacity to do the things that most want doing, and limiting distractions by maintaining strict focus on the task(s) at hand. There’s just more to it than a list.

Yesterday, my day quickly skittered sideways. This morning, my plan as I begin the day is quite precisely what it also was yesterday, because yesterday the items on my list sat untouched and unnoticed all g’damned day. I’m more than a little irritated with myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Wasting time being annoyed by a moment in the past that can not be changed in the present is pretty silly and pointless. I made choices. Like it or not, that was in my hands, entirely. This morning, I have a new day ahead of me, and a new opportunity to work down yesterday’s list – all of which is now ever so slightly higher priority even than it was yesterday. lol I sigh to myself and look over my plan for the day. I’ve got this – if I stay focused, and work with purpose.

…Discipline is a practice…

Funny thing, the discipline I bring to simply working down a list of projects and tasks on a work day is the same discipline I may need to fall back on in some moment of chaos. Practicing that discipline is multipurpose: it gets work done today, in the moment, and also builds both resilience and further discipline for those moments ahead when I may earnestly need (and value, and benefit from) that long-practiced discipline. Handy. Here’s the thing, though, we become what we practice. If I fail to continue to practice that small amount of discipline it takes to stay focused on a selected priority on a given day, over time my ability to be disciplined, at all, ever, will diminish, until I find that I lack the discipline to follow a list, to stick with a commitment, to complete a project that needs to be finished but isn’t very interesting, to run errands purposefully without detours, or even to answer a simple question with a simple answer. Fuck. Being human is complicated sometimes.

…Have you noticed that you have less discipline, yourself, since you began using a smart phone, or relying on Alexa, or using an LLM like ChatGPT, or spending hours on one feed or another that pumps mindless repetitive slop into your staring eyes? I’m asking because it definitely seems like a common complaint these days, and I feel it myself. I personally don’t have the attention span to waste. I have so much to do, and so much life to live. I’m thinking about it this morning, because I’d like to avoid repeating yesterday’s reduced productivity, today, and that list of shit to do? It’s only going to get longer if I fall behind. Another common complaint is that it’s a busy world, but a considerable portion of what we think we’re busy with is entirely a waste of precious mortal moments. (That is something worth thinking about – are you spending your time the way you want to?)

That’s an entirely different question. I put it aside for another morning.

I’m not even sure, right now, what it is I do want to be doing. Probably not working. I’d like to take off for a few days on the coast to watch the king tides from the balcony of a beachside hotel, or pick a highway and drive for days until the view is so substantially altered it feels truly new. I’m not so deeply fatigued as I have been (it helped to take it easy for a couple days over the weekend), but I yearn for… something. Something new? Something different? Something… effortless? Something distracting. I laugh to myself; human primates reliably make a lot of their own problems, and then seem to complicate those problems quite deliberately. So weird.

I sip my iced coffee and think my thoughts. Making my plan for today was pretty easy; I copied it from yesterday, and then set myself an alarm. When that alarm goes off, I will get to work. One task, one project, one experience at a time, until the list is completed, and the day is at an end. It’s not fancy. There’s nothing mind-blowing about this approach. No novel buzzwords to market it with, it is what it is; discipline, and it requires practice. I sigh again in this quiet space. No distractions or interruptions to be found here. I think that makes it a good time to begin again. 😀

In spite of the heat I spent some time in the garden yesterday (before it got too hot, in the cooler morning hours). I happily watered and weeded, and reflected on the chaos that has arisen over weeks of hot weather, busy work days, and other shit that just had to get done. Time is a limited resource, and so is the energy I’ve got available to get things done with.

I found myself doing what I tend to do when I observe chaos creeping further into my day-to-day experience; I made a list. I took some notes. I contemplated the varying levels of urgency and the considerations driving that.

The chaos in my garden.

There are peas dry on the vines ready to harvest for next year’s planting. There are carrots ready to harvest, and favorite salad greens that bolted in the heat (may as well harvest those seeds, too). The deer were haphazard with their “helpful” pruning of tomatoes, but I’ve still got a few tomatoes ripening, hidden in the greenery. Thirsty roses want deeper watering, and need a bit of pruning. There is so much weeding to do. Work had gotten busy, and I had gotten tired with other every day tasks on top of that, and I fell behind on several of the things the garden needs to thrive and be beautiful and productive. Our choices have consequences. Now I’m faced with those; I put my attention on work (for a job that I won’t be doing any longer) and let the garden go a bit wild, and the weeds remind me that my own choices allowed them to thrive.

I’m neither mad nor frustrated. The garden manages to be lovely regardless, and I enjoy my time spent there, even on a muggy summer morning before the heat of the day sets in. There are roses blooming at the edge of the lawn (at least one of which does not know the meaning of “winter” and will likely bloom all year) and it delights me to pause along the walk to see them there in the sunshine, drops of water glittering on the edges of colorful petals after morning watering.

“Baby Love”, blooming in the summer heat.

I spent the day contentedly creating order from chaos. I find it a useful practice for reducing background anxiety and stress. Chaos in my environment tends to result in chaos in my thinking. Tidying things up, clearing out clutter, and working down a list of tasks that need doing has proven to be a really good practice for managing my stress and anxiety. When those tasks are specific to supporting my own needs as an individual, it also feels like self-care. Conveniently enough, there nearly always seems to be something to do that meets those needs. lol Laundry. Dishes. Hanging up the various pairs of earrings that have managed to find some random resting place here or there in the house. Putting books away. Filing paperwork that has stacked, waiting to be filed. Dusting. Pulling weeds in the garden and from the flower beds as I pass by on my way to some other task or destination. It quickly becomes a form of meditation, when I stay engaged with the task and present in the moment, and don’t allow myself to “wander off” in my own head.

All along the way, task by task, hour by hour, there are moments of wonder, delight, and beauty that turn up to be savored and enjoyed. A colorful display of flowers. A lingering romantic hug with my Traveling Partner. A beautiful blue sky. I make a point of really enjoying these (and so much more) whenever they occur. Another sweet way to reduce stress and anxiety; really being present for moments of joy and beauty and savoring them. It matters so much to allow myself to be delighted, even for an instant.

A colorful display of flowers in the summer sun, at the grocery store.

I am never too busy to enjoy something beautiful. (I find myself wondering when I’ll next be in the city… maybe I can work in a trip to the art museum?)

Change can feel so incredibly chaotic. The loss of familiar routines feels disruptive. Managing the stress and the anxiety that can come with change can feel overwhelming – until I break things down into smaller pieces, and create order from the chaos one task at a time. Breathe, exhale, relax – like any practice, there are steps, and I’ve got to do the work myself to experience the results (otherwise, we’re just having a conversation about it, eh?).

I sip my coffee as the sun rises. I won’t be watching that from this office window much longer… Change is. Jobs end. We are mortal creatures, and however tightly we cling to some experience, or person, or moment, we will face the reality of impermanence sooner or later. The plan is not the experience. The map is not the world. Reality will be what it is without regard to our thoughts or feelings about it. Practicing non-attachment has tended to make me more practical about change – and chaos, and I no longer take such things so personally. I’ll take a new breath, and I’ll begin again. Really, what else is there to do?

For now, I sit with the quiet, and this good cup of coffee, and I look over what needs to get done today. I make a plan. I smile when the thought of my beloved Traveling Partner crosses my mind for no particular reason; he is a steady presence in my life whether we’re in the same room or not, and I am grateful to be so loved and supported. I reach out to a friend via email wondering if they have time to get together for a coffee sometime soon? It’s the relationships that matter most, in work and in life.

A hazy dawn, a row of birds gathered on a powerline.

I sigh to myself, feeling this contentment and practicality like a firm foundation beneath my feet. I’m okay right now, for nearly all values of okay, and that’s enough. The future is unwritten, and I can’t see where this path leads… but this feels like a good place to begin, again.

I am in some pain this morning, but nothing like the worst of the pain I am sometimes in. My coffee is good, better than average, not my best cup of coffee. I sit quietly with my thoughts and my coffee, after my walk, giving my illness-weakened body a little time to recover from the walking, before I get started on the housework. It’s a cycle, this thing we call “life”. Many cycles, actually, on a journey without a map. It’s easy to narrow my focus to just this space, here, and to allow life to become the cycles, and little more: sleep, walk, coffee, write, work, rest, cook, clean-up, sleep again. We are so much more than the practical task-handling endeavors that are necessary to build and maintain the quality of life we enjoy. Getting ahead sometimes means so much more work, and doesn’t always feel “worth it”. Falling behind happens in an instant of thoughtless ease. Finding balance is sometimes difficult, and I sometimes sacrifice self-care on the alter of providing for others (not a healthy approach long-term).

…I am fortunate and grateful for a partnership that encourages self-care and provides mutual respect…

My Traveling Partner inquired about the towels this morning – were there more clean washcloths somewhere? I’d fallen behind on the laundry, and committed to doing that today. When I arrived home, he’d already started a load of laundry. Having help feels good. Going into the kitchen, I see dishes piled in the sink… no one thought to do the dishes while I was down sick. I frowned at the dishes while I made my coffee. I’ll get those done, too. (Definitely feeling better.) Pride of place, a sense of responsibility, and a desired quality of life tend to be enough to keep me at it, but omg, sometimes it is just much. (I will admit that one practical factor in my lifelong decision to remain child-free was my total lack of interest in doing all that work for some other human being, most especially without help!) It’s hard to take the breaks I sometimes need, to maintain my own health. Finding balance is complicated… Why is that so complicated?? I think it comes down to a couple of things: perceptions, perspective, and reality.

One perspective on a morning walk.

How we perceive things around us changes when we’re ill, or under stress, and our priorities may change in the moment. How people around us perceive things may be something we have to consider, too, depending on their needs and expectations. When we’re sick, we may care a lot less about the vacuuming, or clean kitchen counters. When we’re exhausted, we may not care at all about whether the shower is actually clean. All very human, eh? But, once we’re back at our best, those things may suddenly matter quite a lot, and begin to be something causing us stress or a sense of urgency.

…I really dislike the “catch-up cycle” after I’ve been ill; I feel like I have to get it all done immediately to make up for any allowances and accommodations I made while I was ill (a thoroughly internalized lingering consequence of growing up in a culture of misogyny that treats the unpaid labor of women as a given, and a notable bit of baggage I am still dragging around)…

A very different perspective, focused on the details.

Our perspective on the details, large and small, is a big piece of how we set our priorities. Do the dishes in the sink matter a lot – or just matter a lot to me? Is it a health concern, or just something I don’t like to see? (Some people don’t care that much about having a handful of dishes in the sink that need to be washed and put away, other people have literal break-downs over a dirty glass sitting in an otherwise clean sink. Care to guess which one I am?* Which one are you?) Sometimes, keeping an orderly house feels more like self-care than it feels like manual labor. In circumstances such as that, it’s pretty easy to “stay caught up” and handle those tasks as a sort of meditation. Things do take the time they take, though, and housekeeping workload stands in defiance of creative endeavors. Again with the challenge of finding fucking balance. I sip my coffee and laugh at myself. I do what I can. I get a lot done – often more than I think I’m capable of, because even there – my perspective may not be a close fit to reality.

What we turn our attention to, and how we think about what we perceive, changes how we understand the world around us.

…Reality always gets the last word…

When I had cats years ago, I was quite convinced that my cats didn’t do any damage to my home, and that I kept things sufficiently tidy that there was “no cat smell”. That’s perception. I felt that the benefits to having my (much loved) cats far outweighed any concerns about cleanliness or health – lots of people have, and love, cats. That’s perspective getting involved. We don’t all see the world the same way, nor do we all share the same understanding of it. Still, the world is the world – reality largely ignores our perceptions and perspectives and just does its own thing. My apartment full of cats (and many of my belongings) definitely “smelled like cats” – but I didn’t perceive it (acclimation) and didn’t understand what I didn’t see as a potential concern (lack of adequate perspective). The reality of it was unmistakable when I moved out. (As well as difficult and costly to remedy, due primarily to my lack of awareness over time.)

I’m just saying – I have a shitload of housework to catch up on, after a camping trip, several days in too much pain to do housework, and then being sick. I can chuckle over how human that is, now. It is what it is, right? Now I see the need, because my perspective has shifted with my improving state of wellness. I feel the internal pressure to make it a very high priority – putting myself at risk of poor self-care. Cycles and balance. Fuck. Adulting is hard.

…We do become what we practice…

I sigh to myself and glare into my now-cold coffee. I’ve got a to-do list ready, and it’s a long one (but I’ve got the entire weekend to work on it). It’s already time to begin again – I’ll just be over here doing my best.

*Both. I’m rather inconveniently both of those types of people with regard to the dishes. Baggage is heavy… I remind myself to put some down.

This morning I woke up feeling subtly different about “things”, generally. It wasn’t a huge obvious change of heart or significant shift in mindset, but there was definitely a hint of a sense of purpose that feels more focused. I like having a plan. A bit of self-reflection can go a long way toward “lighting the path ahead” – like wearing a headlamp on a dark trail. It’s no substitute for sunlight, but it’s better than wandering around in the dark.

I’m sipping my coffee and taking a look at my notes from yesterday. It’s not a detailed plan, just a handful of notes. Something more like a notion of what landmarks to look for on a memorized route than an actual map. For example, “read more bound books” isn’t very specific at all – but I also have an actual stack of books to read, and a list for more that I’d like to read once I’ve finished the stack I’ve got. Now that’s a plan. Well… no. That’s an intention, backed up by physical tools to get the thing done. My plan is to take advantage of quiet time in the evenings to read a bit, and on weekend mornings when my Traveling Partner is sleeping in (when I can’t quite start on housekeeping chores and such because I’d make too much noise), those are good times for reading. If I wake during the night, I’ve got another good opportunity to read a chapter or two, before returning to sleep. That’s a plan. Making it all come together is about the actual actions, and as I said, this morning I woke feeling focused and purposeful – and not just about reading more bound books, there’s more to my notes than that, more that I’d like to do, to live, and to change. So… there are definitely verbs involved. Life to live. Choices to make. We become what we practice, and I’ve plenty of practice ahead of me in the new year.

This morning I am feeling hopeful and encouraged about life, in spite of the chaos of the world. Yes, there’s a lot of distressing horrible shit going on in the world, but very little of that is happening in my little town, and none of it in my home or at my job, and I don’t mean to be selfish or self-centered about this, I’m just saying there’s more to life than the outrage machinery of the media, or the horrors of foreign wars. It’s okay to also embrace hope, and enjoy… joy. In fact, it’s probably healthy, and helpful. So, I make a point of it. I’m not ignoring the shit that needs changing in the world – I’m merely “filling the tank” so that I have the endurance for this race, and the resolve to speak truth to power, and the will to do what I can to make positive changes, even if that is only raising my voice without shame to say “this is wrong, we can do better”.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m already thinking about distant trails, and afternoons camping in forested places. It’s winter now, but Spring will come again. I think about my Dear Friend for a moment. She “gave up” too soon, I’ve often thought. A great many things that we human beings do are more than a little “use it or lose it” in practice. You can love hiking, but if you don’t hike, it slowly becomes more difficult until it’s not easily done at all. This is true even of movement, generally. I don’t want to follow that path, myself, don’t want to “give up” too soon – so I keep walking. I keep camping. I keep working in my garden. (Well, that last is presently a bit aspirational; my untended garden full of weeds vexes me every time I walk past. I can do better. It’s on my list.) It’s easy to feel the fatigue and the pain and to want to just… rest. It’s a risky choice to rest too often for too long. It can too easily become a sedentary life of inactivity and malaise. I keep walking. I keep beginning again. One more step. One more task. Another project. Life is full of verbs.

I look at my calendar – I see a new physician next week. The week after that, an old friend (The Author) will visit – I’m excited about that. I haven’t seen him since… 2016? 2017? 2018. It’s been too long. The week after that I get my hearing aids. Busy January. The path ahead unfolds step by step. I look over my notes; it’s not about “ticking boxes”. It’s my life. I want to live it. I’m enjoying making time for more reading. I’m enjoying refreshing my Czech language skills. I’ll try out a new recipe tonight – probably. I skipped my walk this morning, and it serves as a powerful reminder that consistency is also a practice. (Every day that I don’t walk a trail is a day that reduces the likelihood of hitting that 1k trail mile target, I remind myself unnecessarily.)

I sigh quietly to myself, and stretch. I’m 61 as I sit here – 62 in June. How much time do I have left? What do I want to do with it? How do I live my best life for the longest amount of remaining time? What matters most? I don’t “feel old” – but I also don’t feel young. Today’s a pretty good day – I’m not in a lot of pain (call it a 3 on a 1-10 scale, which is honestly pretty good for me). There’s more yet to do – and doing it from a perspective of presence and mindful awareness changes the experience for the better. I smile and sip my coffee and push up my sleeves. It’s time to begin. Again.

I’m sipping my coffee, reflecting on the year behind me and thinking ahead to the year that has newly begun. “The journey is the destination.” So it’s said. So I hear. I accept that as a given, actually, after walking my path awhile. It’s the first “proper Monday” of the new year as I sit here at my desk, and I’ve a pen and a small notebook at hand. I make notes as I reflect on my life and my achievements, missed opportunities, and occasional disappointments of the year behind me. The notes are in two columns this time around; “stepping stones” and “pitfalls”. The stepping stones are things I can adopt or continue as practices that will tend to build the life I want to live, and help me become the woman I most want to be. The pitfalls are those things that may tend to hold me back or undermine my progress. Simple stuff.

I’ve given my year a “theme”, intended to represent a destination of sorts, on which I can anchor my intentions, goals, and priorities. This year my theme is “living a quality life”, which I am defining as living my best life without exhausting myself (or my resources).

My list of stepping stones is quite practical, and seems very achievable. It’s not even long, and is made up mostly of things I greatly enjoy. How handy is that? This is by intention; it’s easier to practice things that are either very enjoyable or which have an immediate “pay off”. There are only two wholly conceptual items, but they are important ideas for the year ahead: presence, and consistency. I see them as being necessary to the success of everything else on my list.

  • Learn a language (I’m already working on this one, by working on rebuilding and improving my Czech language skills, which are quite rusty)
  • Read more bound books (I’ve got a stack of them, and I’ve already finished one – but it’s not a race, and comprehension is a key part of the experience)
  • Paint more (this one is a bigger deal than two small words imply, and meets many needs)
  • Walk more/further (788 trail miles in 2024 – can I hit 1000 in 2025? Self-care? Meditation? Fitness? A bit of all that and more.)
  • More strength training (an important part of fitness and health as I age, and utterly necessary as I continue to lose weight and use semaglutide to manage my blood sugar.)
  • Food/diet – explore new recipes and skills (and write down the successes in the new family recipe binder my Traveling Partner gifted me this year! The semaglutide being what it is, food has become a very intentional thing, which seems healthier, too.)
  • Drink more water (the science says it really matters – and I definitely feel better when I do.)

My list of pitfalls is surprisingly short, but each item on that list is a potential chasm – a sinkhole more than a pothole on life’s journey. Self-reflection lets me get down to basics in a way that prevents me from petty self-criticism or negative rumination, and provides me with positive observations I can really work with to limit poor behavioral choices, and to develop better practices that are themselves in line with my “presence” and “consistency” stepping stones. Win!

  • Autopilot (no lie, I like things easy, and I rely on habit and routine to stay the course with some healthy practices, but leaving things on “autopilot” is the literal opposite of being present, and it comes with some troubling negative consequences. It’s worth learning to remain present, aware, and mindful even when being consistent with some routine practice – and potentially more joyful.)
  • Failed practices (being human, failure is a thing and there’s no dodging that, but healthy practices need… practice. Resuming a valued practice that has momentarily failed is a matter of beginning again. Worth the effort.)
  • The fallow garden (literal and metaphorical; 2024 was a terrible year for my garden. My Traveling Partner needed more from me than I truly had to give, and that wasn’t negotiable from my perspective – other things, particularly my garden, fell by the wayside and need new resolve and attention in the year to come.)
  • Malaise (it’s easy to let fatigue push me to failure through exhausted inaction, it’s hard to overcome, but good self-care and careful management of time and energy are worthy tools to prevent falling into this trap)
  • Resentment (another all-to-human trap, this one is avoided through connection, openness, skillful communication and boundary-setting, and reliably consistent self-care)
  • Sugar! (Just keeping it real, this shit is like poison for me.)

This stuff isn’t complicated. Just some notes taken as I reflect on my life and consider what I want out of it. What do I want? I want joy and contentment. I want improved wellness. I want improved intimacy and connection in my relationship(s). I want satisfaction in life and “order from chaos”. I want to live on principles of sufficiency, within my resources. As I said – it’s not complicated stuff, and mostly seems pretty doable. It’s not “fancy”, and as goals go these seem rather more “within reach” than grandly aspirational. I still have to really work at all of this, though. I’m quite human.

I make a point to “set myself up for success”. I’m not looking at the calendar telling myself I need to be a size 8 by next Thanksgiving, or that I’ll be fit to run a marathon by the 4th of July. I’m not making a long list of weighty tomes and demanding that I finish them all before the next new year. In fact, these mostly don’t adhere to “SMART” goals at all. (SMART goals are specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-based, great for professional project management.) My life is not a corporate entity with a 5 year plan and key performance indicators that must be reached to qualify as a success. lol I’m not saying SMART goals are not worthwhile in a great many use-cases. It’s more that I’m a human being, living a life that I’d like to enjoy. My mortal time is finite and precious. So… these are my goals, approached my way. The success is defined by me, based on my values. This works for me. It’s enough.

Speaking of limited time… it’s already time to begin again. I make myself a calendar entry to remind me to look back on this moment of self-reflection later, and see how I did when this year ends. (I do find purposeful self-reflection very useful.)

…I wonder where this path leads…

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.