I Threw Out My To-Do Lists
I just need you to know that I’ve stopped writing, “To Do” lists and no one has died.
Have I forgotten to do a few things?
Sure have.
Have I missed a few deadlines?
Sure did.
Did I get a few phone calls from the dentist asking when I would pick up the bite plate I was fitted for almost a month ago?
You know it.
But, something happened to me when I stopped writing down my “shoulds” and started listening to my needs.
And you know what?
Shit got done- but I wasn’t patting myself on the back for how efficient and productive I was for the day and slowly but surely, I began to experience this freedom of, “enoughness” everyone’s been talking about.
I’m not knocking list-makers. If it’s a lifeline to you- please, by all means. But I was not an ordinary list maker. I had 5 journals: Work projects, Self Improvement, Meal Planning/Recipe Rotation, Home Improvements, and Girls Agendas that I would write in on a DAILY BASIS. The lifeline became a noose that tethered me to productivity.
Enough.
I put them all in my closet and then proceeded to melt down for the next 48 hours until I emerged, free as a bird with the same amount of work and no pressure to accomplish it all before lunch.
How do you manage productivity and worthiness? I’d love to know.
It’s been nearly 40 years and I’m still not great at it. I want everyone to think I’m superhuman and wonderful and efficient and smart and isn’t that just dumb?
I want to do better. For ME.
Things That Have Nourished Me
We have, as a family, watched Matilda the Musical more times than I can account for- and shhhh don’t tell the kids, but I have it playing all day long while they’re at school, too. The song, “Naughty,” makes me burst out into tears everytime. For this, “good girl,” who followed the rules (most of the time), the idea that sometimes the right thing is to be a little bit naughty is breath. Watch it here:
I think Molly Yeh is both adorable and annoying in equal proportions, but when I saw that my beloved Deb Perelman of Smitten Kitchen fame endorsed her latest cookbook, I bought it. I do not regret it. Hand-pulled noodled with dumpling sauce? Chocolate chip marizan cookies? I’m in.
I’ve adored all of the Maggie Smith’s of the world ( the dame, and the poet) but I’m referring to the latter in that her latest work, “Goldenrod” has been the most beautiful addition to my morning routine. Her poem entitled, “Confession” begins like this… “ My son’s terrible fevers are softening me to God. To the idea. When he sizzles to the touch, speeches a strange new language of not-consonants and not-vowels, I need one golden iteration I can live with,” and it was the very thing this illness-phobia-ed Mama needed to hear.
I was told that I wasn’t gracious enough with our new puppy. That I had expectations of her that she wasn’t able to reach. That she should come to expect good things from me, and not always reprimands. And in a few strange way, it was relieving. As though someone were saying the same to me.
I have tried and failed a true Sabbath practice- but I have begun to eat my words about prayer. Perhaps it’s not the way in which I pray, but the posture and expectation I have whilst praying that is different. To what end. To whom. I will unpack further down the line.
Lastly- I’ve taken a big step back from posting several times a day on my socials pages. Many, because the expectation to produce was too much. I like it here, better. It’s quieter. More personal. I feel like we’re in it together. If you like meeting me here and feel like you know just the friend who might benefit from this shared space- would you share it with them? It means so much.
Alright my friends- I hope you have someone as faithful as this pup who will wait patiently while you process your thoughts before you have breakfast. (And if you’re local, you might want to try our new favorite spot for the best pancakes in the area: (http://www.billsluncheonette.com). If you must eat your words, make sure they’re delicious. With maple syrup.
Juno's getting so big already!