Not even 8:00 a.m. in the morning and I’m at my computer, writing. I need to pinch myself to be sure I am actually awake. Perhaps I am asleep, dreaming of accomplishing things before the sun even rises on this chilly winter morning. I dream a lot. I have visions of myself completing tasks. Checking off the to-do list. Having organized shelves in the laundry room. That box of junk that’s been sitting in the front hall for months, taken down to storage. The empty pop cans in the truck of the car, dropped off at the bottle depot. Trouble is, thinking about it becomes a feedback loop.
Day one, I decide I need to reorganize my work area. Day three, I puzzle over how I would rearrange things. Day seven, I imagine myself unpacking the printer I purchased last month, setting it up, getting it working. Day eleven, I see reference materials stacked within reach; items essential to my work placed logically so I can easily access them. Day fifteen, the idea of reorganizing my work area to be more comfortable and efficient crosses my mind. I instantly feel guilty that I have done nothing to accomplish this goal. And so it goes.
At that point, the reorganization joins a myriad of other undone things I intended to do. They congeal into an insurmountable mountain of ‘shoulds’. They become a weight on my shoulders. They drag me down into the abyss of avoidance. I am overcome by guilt, and overwhelmed by all the things left undone.
There’s two things I know about this. Well, maybe three.
One: the drama of the guilt is a programme. Part of an operating system that is designed to stop me in my tracks. I am overwhelmed, I feel listless, tired, I tell myself I’ll do something later.
Two: the humongousness of the many undones defeat me. The mountain is too high. The exertion required is far beyond my capacity. The undones intertwine in a heaving mass of ‘you should have had this done by now’, rising before me and shutting out the sun. I feel demoralized, oppressed. I tell myself I’ll do something later.
Three: the only answer is to actually Do.
To that end I made a list called ‘Things I Dream of Getting Done’. I remind myself that small steps are alright. I remind myself that starting is the most important thing. Don’t even attempt to climb the mountain. Just set up a base camp.
Start. Baby steps. And, most important, persevere. A step a day is better than 10 steps on Friday night if 10 steps on Friday means overwhelming, over-extending, and overdoing, thereby creating the opportunity to say on Saturday, ‘I’m too tired. I’ll do it later.” ~

