my little notebook
a few months back, i bought a little notebook. i found myself getting easily distracted and forgetting to do things–big things, little things, everything. i became very frustrated both that things weren’t getting done and that i was forgetting them, which probably affected me more. i had hoped that keeping a list of things to do in my little notebook would help. my plan was to add a task in my little notebook when it came up. when i finished a task that i had written in my little notebook, i would cross it off.
at first, my little notebook was overwhelming. i was adding tasks faster than i could remove them. my little notebook was a big, glaring reminder of how far behind i was. water the plants. pick up dry cleaning. finish the downstairs bathroom. mow the grass. routine tasks that under normal circumstances would seem like a grain of sand were huge boulders that i felt i could not move. i was discouraged and more frustrated.
after a surprisingly short period, however, my little notebook began helping. my little notebook was my chisel as i chipped away at the boulder of a task list. the boulder became a rock, the rock became a pebble, and after a while, the pebble became a grain of sand.
did i find myself falling behind again. why? because i abandoned the tool that got me to this wonderful task-less bliss. my little notebook sat lonely and forgotten in a dark drawer having only done its job and having been rewarded by being discarded.
this week, i found myself again being frustrated by the chaos of a task list that had no form. i was forgetting to do things and was poorly prioritizing the tasks that i did remember. it struck me then that i had turned my back on my boulder breaker, my chisel, and that which brings order to chaos. frantically, i searched for my little notebook. an outsider looking in would assume i was a drug addict looking for a hidden stash that i had misplaced. i was emptying drawers on to the floor, turning each drawer over and quickly scanning the contents as gravity pulled the contents downward. dump, scan, next. dump, scan, next. dump, scan. jackpot..
my little notebook didn’t wonder where i had been. my little notebook didn’t wonder what it did wrong. my little notebook didn’t harbor any resentment. my little notebook allowed me to open it and start a new list, welcoming the responsibility of organizing my life.
one of the first things that i crossed off my list was booking my trip to chicago. i love having friends across the country and around the world. i love that they allow me to visit them, and open their homes to me. my chicago friends have a new baby and a new house, and i am as eager to share that excitement with them as i am to not be here.
here, however, is a topic that i will cover some other time.