Reverb15 Day 1: lists and prayers
Nov. 30th, 2015 07:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pondhopThe prompt (at Kat McNally's): What sorts of lists do you have on the go at the moment? What do they suggest you are praying for?
The last time I printed out my personal Workflowy, I think it took up twelve double-sided pages or so? This year, many of the sections began with the word "After": After [daft deadline #1]. After [returning from NC/TX/KY/ON/QC/NY/PA]. After [unholy deadline #2]. If [x], then [y].
I wrote a poem about the tail-chasing tenor of my lists some years ago, in response to a prompt from some probably long-defunct challenge, but it would take more time than I can spare tonight to track it down.
Addressing that situation is on a list as well, but that bloc is multiple "afters" below the lists of things to study, things to write, things to observe, things to repair...
By my computer, there is a handwritten list of tomorrow's and Wednesday's priorities. In my tote bag, there are several shopping lists, for different neighborhoods and situations (essential groceries / treats / gifts / experiments / trades / upgrades ... ).
Laborare est orare? My boss burst out laughing this morning, with reason: I'd just told her about the dream I had a night or two ago, in which a version of me was lecturing another version of me about staying within scope on Project A so I could move on already to Project B and the rest of my life. And Observer Me (aka the part of my brain aware that I was dreaming, but powerless to halt the dream) was rolling her eyes at the pointlessness of dream-fretting about work instead of getting it done, while at the same time aware that the reason I was asleep was because I can't do my work without recharging.
But I also really actually enjoy sleeping, in fact. I like snuggling into my worn flannel sheets. I like the shifting light and shadows of my house. I like the scent of my partner and of my own perfume. I like the books I have by my bed: cookbooks, poetry, textbooks, phrasebooks, letters. I like that space of letting myself remember that no matter how frustrating or draining various parts of the day may have been, I am now in a place of comfort and safety, and of remembering to thank the universe for my good fortune.
My lists help me remember what I want. They nudge me past the ankle-grabbings of molehills and the tinsel in the magpie nests. I still squander many, many minutes on minutiae and moping and fruitless fancies, but more would be lost without the lists mapping out what's next. I can't leap over buildings in even multiple bounds, but the putting of one foot in front of the other? I have a decent handle on that sometimes. X marks the spot. The lists are part of the tent that keeps the X legible -- a version of the prayers that keep me in tune with myself regardless of what others may claim or demand.
On a tangential note, I watched The Pilgrims last week, which is streaming at PBS until mid-December. Roger Rees plays William Bradford. Knowing that Rees converted to Judaism and became an American citizen in the 1980s added to the layeredness of hearing me speak, as Bradford, about learning Hebrew.
But I am thinking tonight of different Rees-Pilgrim connection -- a quote from an interview he gave to Patrick Pacheco back in 1975, as a thirty-year-old not-yet-star:
This entry was originally posted at http://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/396382.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.
The last time I printed out my personal Workflowy, I think it took up twelve double-sided pages or so? This year, many of the sections began with the word "After": After [daft deadline #1]. After [returning from NC/TX/KY/ON/QC/NY/PA]. After [unholy deadline #2]. If [x], then [y].
I wrote a poem about the tail-chasing tenor of my lists some years ago, in response to a prompt from some probably long-defunct challenge, but it would take more time than I can spare tonight to track it down.
Addressing that situation is on a list as well, but that bloc is multiple "afters" below the lists of things to study, things to write, things to observe, things to repair...
By my computer, there is a handwritten list of tomorrow's and Wednesday's priorities. In my tote bag, there are several shopping lists, for different neighborhoods and situations (essential groceries / treats / gifts / experiments / trades / upgrades ... ).
Laborare est orare? My boss burst out laughing this morning, with reason: I'd just told her about the dream I had a night or two ago, in which a version of me was lecturing another version of me about staying within scope on Project A so I could move on already to Project B and the rest of my life. And Observer Me (aka the part of my brain aware that I was dreaming, but powerless to halt the dream) was rolling her eyes at the pointlessness of dream-fretting about work instead of getting it done, while at the same time aware that the reason I was asleep was because I can't do my work without recharging.
But I also really actually enjoy sleeping, in fact. I like snuggling into my worn flannel sheets. I like the shifting light and shadows of my house. I like the scent of my partner and of my own perfume. I like the books I have by my bed: cookbooks, poetry, textbooks, phrasebooks, letters. I like that space of letting myself remember that no matter how frustrating or draining various parts of the day may have been, I am now in a place of comfort and safety, and of remembering to thank the universe for my good fortune.
My lists help me remember what I want. They nudge me past the ankle-grabbings of molehills and the tinsel in the magpie nests. I still squander many, many minutes on minutiae and moping and fruitless fancies, but more would be lost without the lists mapping out what's next. I can't leap over buildings in even multiple bounds, but the putting of one foot in front of the other? I have a decent handle on that sometimes. X marks the spot. The lists are part of the tent that keeps the X legible -- a version of the prayers that keep me in tune with myself regardless of what others may claim or demand.
On a tangential note, I watched The Pilgrims last week, which is streaming at PBS until mid-December. Roger Rees plays William Bradford. Knowing that Rees converted to Judaism and became an American citizen in the 1980s added to the layeredness of hearing me speak, as Bradford, about learning Hebrew.
But I am thinking tonight of different Rees-Pilgrim connection -- a quote from an interview he gave to Patrick Pacheco back in 1975, as a thirty-year-old not-yet-star:
Rees opened his arms expansively and said, "Oh, I want to do so much! I really don't approve of people going off to islands. I suppose I have this relenting Christian image of coping with all the hassles and obstacles of daily life with taxi strikes and fuel shortages, disappointments and heartaches, taking up your cross to bear and setting out like John Bunyan's Pilgrim to accomplish what you have to do."
This entry was originally posted at http://bronze-ribbons.dreamwidth.org/396382.html. I see comments at DW, IJ, and LJ (when notifications are working, anyway), but not on feeds.