Staying in the Here and Now: Doing your Best, Forgetting the Rest…
This past Saturday, I awoke knowing that the front lawn was piled with leaves. Colleen had started a few weeks back, but the daily demands of life and running a business, coupled with unfavorable weather, had conspired to find the remaining balance of the job unfinished. Daily, I pulled in and out of the driveway, reminded, and today was the day to get it off the ‘list’.
That is what this post is about – the ‘list’.
Kind of.
Perhaps more accurately, it is about how to escape the oppression of the list…
As I began working to undo the entropy that wind and time had played upon the leaf piles that Colleen had created, I could not escape the yard in its entirety, the scope, the breadth, all those leaves, and the calculation of how many bags it would take to complete…
Beyond that – there stood the list of the rest to be accomplished that Saturday, all weighing heavily upon my weekend mood. I was not in the ‘here and now’. I was not feeling good about what I was doing. Actually, I couldn’t even see what I had done. Rounding it all off nicely, I was doing a lousy job. It was getting done, yes, but only in the context of what was next on the ‘list’.
If your life dictates that you spend a great deal of your time in an office, behind a computer, you are likely familiar with the effect upon your state of mind when you opportune to engage in a singularly focused, physical task – like raking leaves. In a short while, the typical cacophony of multiple, conflicting thoughts and priorities begin to sift into single file, quieting down, forming an orderly procession, elegant in simplicity. Clarity, along with a certain familiar old friend, having left unnoticed – peace of mind - cautiously make their presence.
It was during this transformation of consciousness, I realized in my haste to complete items on my ‘list’ – whether it be the Saturday household caretaking goals, or duties in the office during the week - I was not allowing myself to ever focus fully on the task at hand. I was merely semi-present, ever aware of the next bullet point, the next item to check off.
It was in that moment I could suddenly see just the few square feet of lawn in front of me, only the few leaves that still eluded my rake, leaving behind the lawn as a whole, or concerns about tarping the woodpile, or stowing the remaining vegetable pots in the cellar.
The list had receded, no longer dominant, dictatorial.
My job was transformed, now enjoyable, the quality of work significantly improved.
I did complete my list this past Saturday, however, I did so without the typical mental contortions and discomfort, and felt much more satisfied with the results than recent memory could recollect.
A lesson we can all take back to the office.
