The turn of the year means a new day calendar. Ah yes, so many lines to fill and boxes to check. But then, I have to toss the old one in the trash and I hesitate. I flip through it. I marvel at the weeks that were a frenzy of scratches and side notes. Can this all really just be tossed?
Of course.
Those who live by a list like a I do, will likely relate to my hesitation. The book of daily tasks encapsulates the Annie Dillard wisdom in the concrete: “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days.”
These are my days. This book I toss is my fleeting life. Each day at 7am, I am sitting down to begin listing and crossing off until 3 pm, and I am motivated mostly by anxiety and relief. “Here is a thing I must accomplish. I must cross it off today. Hooray! I accomplished this! Next.” And so on ALL DAY LONG.
I am an efficient and industrious human. It would seem some aspire to this nuttiness. The first Google result for list making is a Forbes article call The Life-Changing Magic of List Making. Yet, for me, these lists, these life nets, are pretty flimsy. Lately, I get to to 4:00, find myself off list, and am filled with malaise. I actually considered just keeping the list going until bed. Write down: Get Indy, Help with Homework, Make Dinner, Browse Reddit.
Dear God Woman, what the hell is your problem? At this rate my tomb stone will have 1973 — 20XX.
I don’t think I can afford to abandon lists altogether. I am needed as an industrious and efficient human at the moment. But, I don’t want that to be the highlight of my eulogy. “If you knew Rocky, you knew she could really get shit done.” Great.
At 45, I am thinking that it’s high time I valued the things that don’t make the lists and really shouldn’t — the walks and conversations and books and laughter.
I hope to be seen in the New Year living a bit more joyfully off list. That’s right. It’s a New Year’s post.