If you are a 12-year-old girl called Tiger Lily, and you lose to your little brother at Punch Buggy, you must find a way to win. Even if there are few cars in your small town that are not a farmer’s Ford truck or a soccer mom’s van.
Here’s the big weakness of a To-Do List: life can’t be planned.
And (painful reality check), making a list does not make things happen.
You and I make things happen.
The truth is, To-Do Lists can make one want to yell. They can make one forget the magic of other people’s activities and intentions, because other people aren’t conforming to the List’s demands. To-Do Lists can cause resentment of life circumstances while obscuring the beauty.
I’m a lifelong learner, spontaneous-moment-lover, and unschooler of four kids–which means not only can life not be planned, we deliberately aim to let it flow organically instead.
So, for people like me, To-Do-Lists can generate guilt and frustration, which really wrecks the spontaneity of the moment. I rarely write out a To-Do List. It will only madden me. Besides, there are a lot of ways to get around a personal disconnect from the To-Do List worldview.
I usually have a To-Do List in my head. it looks a lot like Method #1 above. But because the wheel-spinning feeling of “whenever I get there” started to drive me crazy, I decided to trade it in for two other things.
One is a wish list. Every time the future bothers me, or I find myself mulling some unrequited goal or dream, I write it on my wish list. Maybe I’ll get there, or maybe the journey will take me in another direction. Wishes are much less obligatory than goals.
The second is a To-Done List. Here, for example, is my To-Done List from last Saturday:
–Slept 8 hours (this is an achievement for me)
–Took Child #3 for music lesson
–Delivered freezer food to a family experiencing loss (very sad)
–Made lunch and entertained my senile, crabby and beloved grandmother at the same time–takes much energy, one must speak simply and carry the conversation because she’s forgetful and doesn’t form coherent sentences well anymore (draining but satisfying)
–Talked to my parents about their retirement dreams
–Ran out of gas 4 miles from town in a Canadian January with no cell phone, got myself and my 2 younglings rescued, got the car back on the road, got home, dropped off kids, called husband, had meltdown, returned to town on original mission of fueling up car in order to make it to church and funeral the next day. I WIN. HA. Also I feel stupid, but who cares because I WIN.
–Told some people about my publishing project (somewhat nerve-wracking)
–Admired my daughters’ updated wardrobes–always make time for pretty shoes, good karma will result
–Talked to a friend about writing (yay!)
–Talked to very tired, frustrated husband several times–keeping life and each other from going off the rails
–Sat in on husband reading to the kids after supper
–Smooched husband, thus successfully repelling all remaining wandering past-bedtime children
–Went to bed, locked door, ravished husband.
And then I realized that the day may have involved some crap, but I ROCKED that crap. The drained, wiped-out feeling is more often because I lived the day, not because I failed to.
A To-Done List does what a To-Do List can never do. It talks about what really happened today and how you handled it, not what you wanted to have happen and how you imagined yourself handling things that didn’t end up existing.
Things that don’t exist, don’t matter. The things that do exist are worth counting for what they are, not what they aren’t. I would much rather pass that daily value on to my children than the ability to write abstract notions in point form.
Making a list does not make things happen.
You and I make things happen.
That day that sucked? I’ll bet you the Eiffel Tower that you did carpe diem, whether the To-Do List happened or not.
You and I are not our goals, and they are not us. We are people getting down to the business of living, adapting and continuing through change.
So. What’s on your To-Done List?
Image credit: my dream shopping list by tanakawho on Flickr | License: CC BY 2.0
Some of you may remember last year’s little controversy over taking a break from renovations to build an iceboat in my living room. Well, the iceboat (still unchristened) has had her first flight. Sail. Whatever you call it when the water’s hard instead of soft.
Amid winds and ice, we left. And it felt so good to leave.
It was 5 a.m. I clung to the handle above the passenger door as Dave drove over the treacherous back roads. I waited for something to go wrong, to take precedence over the thing I wanted so much. Because surely I wanted it too much. Surely it wasn’t right to crave escape from my life so deeply.
Shamus Young for the win again. Hey kids, come here….
The abovementioned unschooling dad/gamer geek/creative-writer-and-multimedia-guy’s YouTube.
image credit: C.L. Dyck/LifeLedMedia 2010
So says a commenter on this news report. And that means sexual health, whatever it’s defined to be, is a matter of state as well. Eyes open, my American friends.
Repeatedly, we’ve noted and discussed the fact that the sexual continuum is not contained within acts of eroticism. We have discussed the role of men, whether it’s our culture’s take on sexual rights or the approach to responsibilities. We’ve talked about religious oppression of women, and modern secular oppression of women’s sexual rights.
Human bonding has a natural relationship to erotic behaviour. Normally, we think of that in terms of parental rights and responsibilities, including the responsibilities of child-raising. But now, with controversy breaking out over a decision-making process in Ontario education, it’s time to discuss the sexual rights and responsibilities of our elementary school children. Continue reading
I stand at the sink, doing dishes. The sun is brilliant out the window. The yard is disgusting.
Large objects are getting tidied up. I see the boat go trundling by on its trailer, and wish I were out there, climbing on it to just…you know…check how things are. There is no longer a snowmobile positioned as a lawn ornament, and I expect not to have to worry about backing into the ice boat any longer by day’s end.
The yard is a-trickle with sparkling rivulets flowing across the etched clay of the driveway, where the boys scrape channels with hoes, dredging an escape for the meltwater. I cringe and grit my teeth every year through this stage. The snow is piled six feet high where it’s been pushed aside with the tractor. Next to the bare ground, its slouching hulk looks like it plans to sit there for another month, making a sly, unrepentant nuisance with its ongoing mess. And well it might, if the weather fluctuates.
Via: JJ, Bore Me To Tears
…And I’m reducing it to 22 by combining several which are related. Sigh.
Let’s have a look, then, at the “dog-whistles” of anti-evangelicalism, which is a part of my background. Here’s a fine example of the pop-media rallying cry to reject Christian truth claims without the inconvenience of resorting to reasoned examination. Mr. Schaeffer, please proceed to dance on a table:
Funny, I just located a nice list of fallacies to study with my junior-high-year-olds this year. This video, due to its blatant presentation of many such things, has now become our first project. Here’s our list of the fallacies in Frank Schaeffer’s diatribe of silliness à la Monty Python Camelot Can-Can: Continue reading
An image jumped to mind a few days ago. This isn’t quite it. I’ll probably try again. But she’s pretty cool in spite of her flaws, and she made a fun Sunday afternoon project.
The kids’ opinion? “Wow, Mom, you’re really good at drawing books.”
Well. We know what’s important around here.
Some time ago, I pointed out that my experiences are my children’s education to a great degree. And when there’s conversation in the comments section, they’re often looking over my shoulder.
For instance: Last week, the nine-year-old Tiger Lily’s questions centred around who was represented by each avatar. She wanted to know who the pointy-head was, and who the round pink face was. Continue reading
