Life Happens in Between the To-Do List
One True Sentence #2
“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
- Ernest Hemingway
My one true sentence:
Life Happens in Between the To-Do List
Right now, my to-do list is neverending. It’s so burdensome, that I have broken it down into “today’s to-do list” to keep it “more manageable.”
Right now my checklist looks like this:
Finish calls with participants for retreat
Schedule zoom for Joy Scout Camp
Wrap up 3 Book of Stories orders
Finalize swag order with printing company
Send email to everyone who ordered a fuck fine hat (sorry, I am human and made a mistake)
Finalize retreat agenda
Library to print out - van rental form, tax form, agendas for all staff members, participant med form
Write and schedule substack post
Schedule September events for Forced Joy Club
Finalize gift bag items for Joy Scout Camp
Follow up on flight info for Joy Scout Camp
Follow up with developer
Research crowdfunding options
Order packaging supplies
Answer a billion emails
Clean house
Pack for Retreat
Water plants
Take cans to recycling center
Call plumber & garage repair person
These are some of my immediate to-dos. Don’t even get me started on the long-term to-dos, strategy, or vision for my life or business.
None of this leaves room for other priorities, like writing or moving my body or socializing or just fucking frolicking in the sun on these fleeting days of summer. None of this leaves room for any fucking fun.
But, by nature, to-do lists are neverending. You finish one item and another one pops up. Over and over and over again.
Until we die.
I’m not sure when I became so reliant on my to-do list. I remember Brad once challenged me to go a week without a checklist. And when I laughed, he challenged me to a day. My response was, “Why?”
Why stop doing something that provides me comfort? Something that provides me a semblance of control among the chaos? Having a constantly running to-do list allows me to sleep at night because I have a place for my thoughts and tasks to go.
And in those early grief days after Brad died, it was the one tool I had to support my fog-induced grief brain. No need to remember anything - just add it to the list.
Plus let’s not forget the dompine hit that comes with the satisfaction of crossing an item off said list.
But having a constantly running to-do list also brings an enormous amount of awareness to everything I need to do or should be doing, leaving me in a constant state of anxiety and inadequacy (welcome to being a small business owner and a woman and a human in a capitalistic society). Never getting to a state of completion leaves me feeling incomplete as a person.
Want to take a walk? I can’t, I have too much to do.
How about dinner this week? Rain check, too much to do.
Sex? Sorry schnookums, way too much to do.
This is not the balanced life I want.
A to-do list serves a purpose, right? It shows how desperately I crave ease, peace, stability (maybe control?). But at what point is your life overrun by your to-dos?
Life happens in between the to-do list.
It’s not the email or the laundry or the agendas (although those are all important).
It’s everything else you don’t need to write down.
It’s the backyard get-together with girlfriends. And the early sunrise swims in the lake. It’s the slow dinners cooked over a beach bonfire. And the Thursday morning lattes in your friend’s driveway. It’s the walks through the forest with your dog. And long drives through the country with the windows down.
It’s everything that’s not on the fucking to-do list.
The to-do lists are meant to help you live your life more intentionally and with purpose, not to keep you from it. And right now, that’s what my list is doing.
If life happens in between the to-do list, how do we make space for the in between?1
How do we make space for the things we love without having them feel like another chore?
I think we change our relationship with the list (because let’s face it, I’ll never be the kind of person who gets rid of my to-dos - at least not at this stage of my life).
Here’s my plan:
Instead of 20 overwhelming things on my list for the week, I’m committing to 3 achievable tasks a day. Sure, the endlessly long brain dumping list can exists somewhere but not in a place where I have to look at it all day long. This way, if I achieve my three items, I finish the day feeling accomplished. Plus it gamifies my tasks - how early in the day can I finish these 3 items?2 And then what do I choose to do next?
I’m not sure if this tactic will work, but if not, the reminder of our mortality usually does the trick.
Life is fucking short. We’re all going to die. Ditch the list and go live while you still can.
What’s on your list?
What’s your one true sentence today?
I’d love to hear where you’re at. What is true for you in this moment? Let’s continue the conversation in the comments below.
Especially as an over-anxious, over-stressed, over-whelmed, perfectionist of a human being
I’m clearly a competitive person, even with myself.
I may be the "Queen of Lists". They bring me a feeling of control and guidance. However, they also bring me a tremendous amount of anxiety and guilt because there is no way to do it all and most importantly the tasks often take me away from what I would prefer to do. I am struggling with a role I have been doing for years, but it is no longer bringing me enjoyment and taking up precious time I could spend with my loved ones or myself. My sentence is, "take a look at what brings you joy, contentment and peace and make the necessary changes to get there".
Thank you for getting me to think. I always enjoy what you share.
My one true sentence is hang with Rico. Rico is my rescue pup. Similar to you, I've got a never ending to do list of work stuff and home stuff and all the extras a grieving brain dumps on me too. You never know what you get when you bring home a rescue. Days, months, or years, who knows, most dont come with a history. It's about the only way to quiet those "productivity" thoughts, is to remember that Rico won't care if the dishes have sat in the sink a few days. He just wants to spend time with me now. I write this with laundry, dishes, and vacuuming to do, but he is currently snuggled in against me and asleep. The rest can wait a little bit longer.