There’s a chapter of Richard Carlson’s best-selling book Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff entitled “Remind Yourself that When You Die, Your ‘In Basket’ Won’t Be Empty.”
(Catchy, huh?!)
It’s something I fail to remind myself of, on a daily basis.
🤦🏻♂️
Take, for instance, today’s To Do list. In the run up to going away for a couple of weeks (and myriad end-of-term parental shenanigans) the amount of things I want to accomplish, when compared with the amount of time and energy I have, are seriously mismatched.
(Reality is rubbing up against the Giles Ego Construct 📦 and let me tell you, there is friction, people!)
What got written on a bit of paper this morning was easily more than could reasonably be accomplished (or so it seemed) and I set about my day with a sort of grim determination, almost resolved to not enjoying myself at all, and to be stressed until I’d crossed as much off as possible.
I remember thinking, “Jeez, if I get even half of that stuff done, I’ll be over the moon!”
The day didn’t go so badly, and just now I looked at the list and found that I’ve crossed off more like three-quarters of it, and all the big jobs.
😯
Do I feel over the moon?
Hmmm, the jury’s out on that one…
But I’m more than aware of what the G.E.C. is whispering in my ear:
😈 📦: If you cross them all off, you’ll feel better.
Nope.
It’s a never-ending To Do list, the one that the mind produces.
It’s a Sisyphean task that will never complete.
It’s “I’ll be happy when…” in its sneakiest of guises.
As Richard concludes, in that nattily-titled chapter:
“I find that if I remind myself (frequently) that the purpose of life isn’t to get it all done, but to enjoy each step along the way and live a life filled with love, it’s far easier for me to control my obsession with completing my list of things to do.”
To hell with it… I’m off to watch some TV.
😁
Giles
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