No matter what I add to my to do list, there is always something else I didn’t do. I think it’s a direct route from A to C, notice a few obstacles in the way, take care of those and then add some more things to do for later. The jobs are never done.
What’s important, and not always realized, is some things can wait. To do a great job of some things, it’s important to do only that and not multi-task. To sit down, ignore everything else, really dive into the possibility of a great job done well and then ding – a text message. A frantic call. A knock at the door.
There is always something else.
So while I’m trying to focus, to really focus, hundreds of thoughts bounce in my head, taking me away from what I want to do. Like right now, I have full intentions on finishing this blog post and then realize I’m thirsty, wonder if I’m writing on the right topic, taking away from working on my never-ending NanNoWriMo project, or just relaxing so I can have more energy tomorrow.
I keep being reminded that doing a great job the first time is less work than rushing through it to be done. My stacks of firewood, for instance, keep falling after a day or two. Spending hours moving, piling, building to hear them crash to the ground in seconds is aggravating. So I do it again, taking more time and being more confident, but frustrated because it’s cutting into all that I planned to do that day – including resting from doing it the day before. Nope, that falls, too.
Listening to a podcast trying to teach me to embrace the work I’m doing instead of celebrating the main objective, I keep rejecting the lesson. At first I embrace it, realizing all the benefits of being outside and getting some exercise instead of sitting and then crash, it all comes tumbling down.
So not only is my time taken from doing other things and reaching other goals, my body and mind ache from the stress of the journey instead of the goal. The Groundhog Day type scenario of the repetitive journey with no sign of being further ahead.
So yes, there’s always something else and I’m learning to realize there always will be. Please, someone teach me how to accept that the journey is enough.
Thanks for reading,