In Spanish, It's Mañana

For some reason, I'm thinking about tomorrow today.  And this, despite my yoga teacher's admonishment about my mind "wandering into the future, or into the past, all places the mind likes to go." 


Tomorrow--the particular one that follows this particular today--is of no special significance to me.  It is one day closer to what my grandson is calling "Polar Express Day," the day he is coming to Nana's house to watch The Polar Express while eating popcorn and the colored marshmallows he requested.  And one day closer to all other subsequently scheduled events, those I'm looking forward to and those I'm dreading.  And once again, the first day of the rest of my life, and one day closer to its end.


Maybe it's the New Year that has me pondering the constructed temporal divisions we use to torture ourselves.  Or maybe it's the ubiquity of the word "tomorrow" in procrastination lit, in which I am steeped of "late." As in the t-shirt slogan pictured here.  And these clever truisms:  "Procrastinators Unite--Tomorrow!;" "Never put off until tomorrow what you can do t ;" or in a "Masked Procrastinator" cartoon, "Protecting her city from crime and evildoers. . .maybe this afternoon or sometime tomorrow if she gets a chance."


As part of this philosophical distraction, I thought I should consult works of a slightly higher tone, so I Googled some "tomorrow" quotes.  Below are some I found worth chewing on.


You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today.
Abraham Lincoln 


War is a poor chisel to carve out tomorrow.
Martin Luther King, Jr. 


Only put off until tomorrow what you are willing to die having left undone.
Pablo Picasso 


Don't take tomorrow to bed with you.
Norman Vincent Peale 


Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.
Leo Buscaglia 


Tomorrow is only found in the calendar of fools.
Og Mandino 


Yesterday I was a dog. Today I'm a dog. Tomorrow I'll probably still be a dog. Sigh! There's so little hope for advancement.
Snoopy 


Seize the day, and put the least possible trust in tomorrow.
Horace 


Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day.
Samuel Butler 


One should really use the camera as though tomorrow you'd be stricken blind.
Dorothea Lange 


The word tomorrow was invented for indecisive people and for children. 
Ivan Turgenev 


Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow."
Mary Anne Radmacher


Many fine things can be done in a day if you don't always make that day tomorrow.

Anonymous

We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today,

Stacia Tauscher

Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.
Mahatma Gandhi

Despite what I have learned, and am learning, I am unlikely to solve the problem of tomorrow today. Or tomorrow. For now, I guess I'll just concentrate on not getting ahead of myself.

To Resolve or Not To Resolve?

Okay.  Here it is the 5th of January, and I still haven't decided whether I'm making New Year's resolutions--or not.  So what is that about?


Maybe a pros and cons list will help me figure this out.  I have come up with the following positive thoughts about New Year's Resolutions--hereinafter referred to as NYRs.


NYR Pros
1.  I've (almost) always made them, so they're part of my tradition.
2.  NYRs give focus to my efforts to improve myself and my life.
3.  NYRs are useful conversation fodder at this time of year.
4.  If I manage to keep all or most--or what the heck! even some--of them, NYRs can strengthen my good opinion of myself.
5.  The exercise of considering and choosing NYRs makes for some pretty deep reflection.


All good, yes?  So why wouldn't I make like a polar bear and take the plunge?  What's not to love about NYRs?


NYR Cons
1.  I've (almost) always made them, so they're part of my tradition.  (Not so obviously a good thing.)
2.  NYRs can limit my focus, and concentrate my efforts too narrowly.
3.  As an NYR agnostic, I believe that my human mind is too small to know with certainty that NYRs have anything to do with outcomes, or with the quality of my life in the year ahead.
4.  If I manage to break all or most--or what the heck! even some--of them, NYRs can reinforce my low opinion of myself.
5.  The exercise of considering and choosing NYRs would require an amount of time and energy (given my perfectionism, which, come to think of it, maybe I should resolve to eliminate) that could be spent actually accomplishing something, resolved or not.


Clearly, neither list is exhaustive.  And since I have created two 5-item lists, I can't make my decision on a quantitative basis.  


As a fledgling Buddhist, I can see the attachment aspect of NYRs.  Not good.  But then I could resolve to let go of attachments. . . . But wouldn't that be basically becoming attached to the idea of non attachment?


Okay, now I'm getting a headache.


I have a provisional list of resolutions, just in case I decide to adopt any.  (Which makes me wonder who their original parents might have been, and why they decided to relinquish them.)


Revisiting last year's post on the subject of NYRs, I see that my quandary is not new.  Apparently, at least some things stay the same.  But what does that mean for the question at hand?  Resolve?  Don't resolve?


I resolve to think about it some more.

Life Management 101--Where Did All This Paper Come From?

Laura Stack's Find More Time:  How to Get Things Done at Home, Organize Your Life, and Feel Great About It is the current resource for Life Management 101 Tuesdays, as we make our way through her eight pillars of personal productivity.  This week, we examine Chapter 6, "Mastering the Sixth Pillar--PAPER."

Here, Stack provides insight and advice to those of us hip-deep in the dross of dead trees.  You know, the paper, paper and more paper that spills from countertops, obscures desk surfaces, fills our cars, and layers our lives.  As with each pillar, we begin our paper pushing with a 10-item quiz to diagnose the extent of our affliction.  (You can find the entire productivity quiz on Stack's website.)  I should not have been shocked that my score revealed a weakness in this area.  But really, I didn't realize my little problem was as bad as it is.  For each of the items below, I determined which of the following response categories was most descriptive:  1) to no extent; 2) to a little extent; 3) to some extent; 4) to a considerable extent; or 5) to a great extent.  My responses are in red.

To what extent do I . . . 

• Consistently purge my files without fear.  [1]
• Create and maintain a filing system that allows me to find papers easily.  [2]
• Follow a daily processing system for staying on top of the mail and paperwork.  [1]
• Handle bills in a timely fashion and keep up with recordkeeping.  [2]
• Know where to put every piece of paper I receive.  [1]
• Handle phone calls and voice mail productively.  [2]
• Use technology to reduce paper and complete tasks quickly.  [2]
• Keep insurance, medical documents, wills, and important papers up-to-date and easy to locate.  [2]
• Use a calendar system to track family members' schedules. [2]
• Organize and keep up with my reading.  [2]

Okay, so I'm drowning in paper.  But what can I do about it?  And is Laura Stack's approach likely to work for me?  

I'm beginning to think the answer is no, for the most part.  Her advice involves the kind of total life-revamp, relying on complicated systems and routines that I used to find appealing, and to devour regularly.  Until I foundered on the rocks of what sociologists call praxis--i.e., application or use of knowledge or skills.  

I can't use a tickler file, as Stack prescribes, because I can't care enough about adhering to it for longer than a few days.  I can't stay on top of my mail, or the notes from my meetings, because I am regularly interrupted by one crisis or another before I can complete the necessary ministrations, the sorting, discarding, delegating, execution and organization.  I can't maintain even the most basic filing system because I would rather watch a basketball game with my family than shuffle through records, warranty cards, and insurance policy updates.  

I admire people like Stack who can accomplish these things, and have enough control to sustain the necessary resolve and focus to keep it together.  But the combination of prescription and my perfectionism strengthen my desire to avoid such undertakings.  Or maybe I'm just too lazy.

I would love to get out from under all the paper, though.  What I need is a much lower maintenance design.  A little less fairy tale, a little more down and dirty.  I think I'll try to wade through the diabolical Health Insurance Pile, maybe an inch at a time; go through the drawer crammed with meeting notes, agendas, financial reports, etc.; and aim to get all the new junk mail thrown out each week.  Far from the order Ms. Stack details, but probably the best I can do at this point. 

Up next, Post--one of my less horrible pillars.  (Stack's usage of the term "post" reflects her military family's understanding, meaning one's assignment and set of responsibilities, inside and outside of the home.)  Six pillars down, two more to go.  

Done for the Week: Keeping the Faith

Another week gone.  Another year behind us.  When this post is published, I will be on my way to our state capitol to protest our new governor's pre-inauguration moves, which have taken our state several giant steps back in the struggle to create badly needed jobs.  As I contemplate this macro level rejection of progress, my little list doesn't seem so earth-shattering.  But I suppose the trick is to think and act locally and globally, while still living our own important-to-us lives.

I cling to the notion that what I do matters.  Here's what I did last week.

Done for the Week:  Dec. 27-Jan. 2

1. Continued off-season race training; biked three times 
2. Succeeded in getting husband to gym with me once
3. Finished No Graves as Yet, by Anne Perry; Unattended Sorrow, by Stephen Levine
4. Resumed providing minimal volunteer support to transitioning nonprofit
5. Worked my two part-time jobs, with sporadic hours due to holiday week schedule
6. Published 5 blog posts
7. Wrote 7 Gratitude Journal entries
8. Wrote 6 Morning Pages
9. Meditated 2 times
10. Watched our two favorite basketball teams play 4 games, with son and husband
11. Foraged for food at the grocery store several times
12. Attended two yoga classes
13. Took my grandson to the museum, along with other family members
14. Negotiated safe and responsible New Year's Eve celebration with teenager, and stayed up for his return
15. Celebrated New Year's Eve at home with husband and other son
16. Spent New Year's Day in my pajamas, mostly reading
17. Walked my dog three times, including New Year's Day family trip to the dog park 
18. Attended press conference for transitional jobs program
19. Attended social justice meeting/social gathering
20. Did significant work on website I designed and maintain as volunteer
21. Attended "cafe" service at church

My focus goal last week was "to post five blogs, exercise four times, meditate six times, and make the time to resume writing the novel--before I forget what it's supposed to be about."  The extent to which I succeeded in, and fell short of meeting this goal can be seen in the items highlighted in green on the list above.  Five blog posts, check.  Exercise was edged out by eating and reveling more than it should have been.  Meditation continues to be pushed to the bottom of my agenda on too many days.  And once again, novel-writing did not happen.  

I am keeping the same "first things first" focus goal for next week, but with a couple of tweaks.  First of all, I am going to copy my focus goal onto a small piece of paper and clip it to my daily calendar/to do list.  Second, I am going to wear the Serenity bracelet I made a couple of years ago as a daily reminder of the importance of meditating.  Apparently, I'm an "out of sight, out of mind" kind of girl, so maybe the visuals will help.  I am assuming that the resumption this week of my normal, non holiday schedule and routines will be enough to prompt the resurrection of the novel-in-progress that I have been neglecting for a month.

Because so much of the week was spent running hither and yon--like so much of many of my weeks this last year--I regard spending New Year's Day in my pajamas, reading, (in red above) as the most important thing I did last week.  It taught me just how much I am in need of cooling my jets.  I am thinking of trying to spend one day a week not leaving my house in the service of others.  It remains to be seen whether I could actually pull that off.


And now, to bed, so that I can snatch enough zzzzs to arise early enough to--paraphrasing Eliza Doolittle's father--"get me to the [bus] on time."