Image via WikipediaA week or so ago I was talking about all the things I had to do for the rest of that day (I think it was last time we had lunch at church) and I finished up with "and then I've got to go to the quiz", which was met with a general sarcastic response along the lines of "Oh gosh, that must be awful, fancy having to do that." Of course, that was the right thing to say to my rather silly remark - there are probably few things more tiresome than someone telling you how much they have to do, especially when the things they "have" to do are in fact pleasure and leisure - but I have been thinking since about the extent to which (a) I bore people by repeatedly telling them how much I have to do and (b) I actually think of my life as a long list of things I have to get done. To anybody who reads this who has had (a) inflicted on them: sorry, I will try and be more mindful of this in future; (b), on the other hand, is altogether more serious and scary. Am I really going through life looking at the wrong end of a never-ending list of stuff that has to get done? Do I really think of time with my family as just another thing that has to be done, so that I can then get on with something else? The answer to this one is, no, I don't - but I do often spend time doing stuff I enjoy while simultaneously thnking of the other things that I have to do that need doing. What's scary is that if my life is a list, I will never ever get to the end, will never tick everything off and feel pleased with myself for a job well done. Not today or tomorrow or next week, not when I retire or on my deathbed; I will
never get to the end of the list, because the list isn't real, it's just a way of looking at life that actually robs me of opportunities for joy and leaves me overwhelmed with the crushing weight of twenty or thirty or forty years of endless bloody stuff to do.
Image via WikipediaA week or so ago I was talking about all the things I had to do for the rest of that day (I think it was last time we had lunch at church) and I finished up with "and then I've got to go to the quiz", which was met with a general sarcastic response along the lines of "Oh gosh, that must be awful, fancy having to do that." Of course, that was the right thing to say to my rather silly remark - there are probably few things more tiresome than someone telling you how much they have to do, especially when the things they "have" to do are in fact pleasure and leisure - but I have been thinking since about the extent to which (a) I bore people by repeatedly telling them how much I have to do and (b) I actually think of my life as a long list of things I have to get done. To anybody who reads this who has had (a) inflicted on them: sorry, I will try and be more mindful of this in future; (b), on the other hand, is altogether more serious and scary. Am I really going through life looking at the wrong end of a never-ending list of stuff that has to get done? Do I really think of time with my family as just another thing that has to be done, so that I can then get on with something else? The answer to this one is, no, I don't - but I do often spend time doing stuff I enjoy while simultaneously thnking of the other things that I have to do that need doing. What's scary is that if my life is a list, I will never ever get to the end, will never tick everything off and feel pleased with myself for a job well done. Not today or tomorrow or next week, not when I retire or on my deathbed; I will never get to the end of the list, because the list isn't real, it's just a way of looking at life that actually robs me of opportunities for joy and leaves me overwhelmed with the crushing weight of twenty or thirty or forty years of endless bloody stuff to do.
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