Lately, I have been list-making to organize my time and prioritize what's in my mind. Busy hasn't stopped since we moved, but Time has trained me well to be more efficient , effective, and accountable by making lists. And let's just face it, if I don't write it down I don't remember it.
But oh the irony!!! The lists never, ever end. It's a dangerous place to reside inside lists as they have been known to steal my time quicker than the belief that I have saved any by making them. It's a simple fact, the faster I move, or the more I fill my lists, or the more I cram into a day, the quicker the day flashes, leaving me to wonder where my time has gone. Sometimes I feel the satisfaction of my efficiency, and other times I wonder if I am afflicted with an addiction to busy-ness. And at the end of the day, with a fresh list of horizontal slashes dressed in perceived success, I see a skeletal recording of the hours of my day, like a bony rib cage worn by the passage of time. Yikes. *Sigh*
I blast Mumford out loud and dance in the kitchen, I hike amidst my long-limbed brothers (sharing their first fists of green lately ;), I take snapshots of my boy, now with braces, and my girl with her bangs finally growing long. I paint my workshop, and now make its curtains. I drive my husband to the bus station for a meeting in Denver, and I sit to write down on my list that I need to get the snow tires off the van. Time has never been something to fear, not as long as I remember to fill it with heart. The ticking that goes by does not discriminate between snow tires and a smoothie, between laughter and stress, or accomplishment and procrastination. We are our own judge and jury to how we spend our time. Lists or not, I decide where joy plays a part. I decide when to dance or when to drive. So it's only with the trick of the mind and the flick of my wrist how I perceive whether my day is long or short. That is just how foolish we humans can be. Just ask the trees, they know what I mean :).