Curiosity Chronicles — 14

The de-listification of Michelle

Hello, my friends,  

It has been about three months since I last popped into your inbox. This end of the year always flies by, but I have been busy, too. I published an update about my adventures in sageing on my blog late last month and then promptly forgot that I had done so and didn’t let anyone know. So now you know. I’d love it if you popped over and had a read sometime. It also explains a little of what has kept me quiet on the writing front.  

It will probably be a while before I send my next newsletter out into the world because I have some surgery next week and won’t have my right hand available for its regular duties. I also don’t know if I will feel like interacting with people for a bit, so I will play it by ear and listen to what my body and heart need. I may decide to test out dictating things to keep writing or simply sit on the lounge and enjoy a Gilmore Girls marathon during my recovery time. All I know is that I won’t be knitting, typing/writing or creating art for a while, and that’s probably the worst aspect of the whole thing. However, now that I think about it, experimenting with painting left-handed might be an interesting experiment. We shall see. If you are so inclined, please offer up a prayer to your deity of choice or send me some healing vibes. Please and thank you.  

This time, however, I wanted to tell you about one of the changes I made to simplify my life over the last year.  

Photo by Cathryn Lavery on Unsplash 

Over the years, I have had various events and experiences come and go — things that meant transition, change, upheaval, and extended periods of stress. Most people have these things, don’t they? I know I am not Robinson Crusoe here. In these seasons, we develop coping mechanisms — good, bad, and indifferent. 

As life has progressed, circumstances have changed, and I have discovered that some of these coping mechanisms glom on and stay like barnacles even after life has settled down again. They end up slowing me down, and they need to be scraped off to allow the ride to be a bit smoother.  

This particular barnacle was lists. I tried to keep score and maintain control by making lists for many years. What books I had read, movies, and TV shows I had seen. How much water did I drink? What the weather was doing. What I was doing and who I was speaking to down to the minute. You name it, I tracked it with lists. I was trying to win by tracking. After all, they say what is measured can be improved, right? I love me some productivity and self-improvement tricks. But what if my lists weren’t doing those things? What if it was more like hoarding, and what if this habit slowed my progress rather than facilitating it?  

We like lists because we don’t want to die. — Umberto Eco  

I realised that I was using the lists as a coping mechanism, and one that I didn’t need any more. I never shared them with anyone. They were just for me. As a proof of life, rather than just, you know, living it. I gave up on those lists earlier this year. I no longer needed those lists to prove that I was living life. I realised I was making work for myself and giving myself guilt trips when I didn’t keep up. Who needs avoidable work and guilt? Not this bunny!  

I am embarrassed to say it was a struggle to surrender those lists even though they no longer served me. I had actually decided to give them up midway through last year, but I could not bring myself to have the year unfinished. Habits are hard to change! I never said I was a clever woman. Why do you think I am focussing on sageing this year?  

“You can’t break a bad habit by throwing it out the window. You’ve got to walk it slowly down the stairs.” — Mark Twain  

In the end, I chose love over lists. Focussing on love and life is far more satisfying than reading back over a list and patting myself on the back for having read or watched so many things year after year. You cannot lose when you focus on living a life of love. I gave up the struggle of measuring every little thing and focussed on what really matters.  

As satisfying as it can be to see a long list of things you’ve done or to be able to crow at the end of the year that you’ve read 250 books or watched several notable series... at the end of the day, that’s not going to be in your obituary, is it? I patently didn’t give up writing, just not needless lists. Write to remember the stuff that matters. Journal and record the delicious meal your lover made for you, those sweet conversations you had with the lady at the grocery store, the overheard ramblings of kids, or the first time you noticed the wrens in the garden when Spring finally arrived — the stuff of life and love.  

Of course, I still have some lists. Mr Collier constantly teases me about them. Perimenopause has done a number on my ability to remember things from time to time, so they are necessary. But even those lists get removed regularly these days, and it feels terrific to hit the delete button.  

Focus your attention on the things that matter. That’s what I keep reminding myself. That’s where joy resides. And we could all use a little more joy in our lives, couldn’t we? What habits are slowing you down these days? 

Thanks again for allowing me into your inbox!  

You can find my other art, writing, and social media here if you want to keep up with them.  

Michelle