Chisels

I don’t know about you, but I’m having an eerie sense of déjà vu these days. I think the only thing that’s a bit different is I’m not counting my stash of toilet paper and making sure I keep a few packs of Ramen noodles to spare. Wait. Who am I kidding? I always do that for those midnight rumbling stomach cravings. Come on, we all do. I know you’ve got a box of Little Debbie Oatmeal Cream Pies in the pantry for that, Susan.

Regardless of how we dealt with the first part of the pandemic—or now the (hopefully) ending-ish part—seasons will roll around as they always do, colder or warmer, and we are one year older, and probably wider. Not wiser as you probably read. I’ve stuffed my bathroom scale into the closet to hang out with the dust bunnies. Here we are again, in that awkward time of spring that makes me shiver in the morning then changes attitude and I’m sweating in the afternoon, at least here in Tennessee.

No matter where you are, or how much snow you still have, there is a sense of new, even with the déjà vu this March. We are a little wiser, unfortunately some of us are fewer with this sickness still lurking, but there’s still the possibility of bursting through the literal and figurative chill, like a new budding leaf.

I typically don’t enjoy spring. My floors a constant state of “who’s footprints are these?” or heat at night and air conditioning in the afternoon, but this time I’ve taken to lists, much like Santa Claus. While my girth is progressing to his status, my lists are not—mine more like random tiny reminders speckled like glitter across my day. At this point I should buy stock in 3M.

For those of you like me, still dragging the chains of 2020, the bleary winter, and even just the day before, this is an easy way to gain tiny bursts of energy, or at least a small sense of accomplishment daily, or depending on your style, maybe even hourly. I’m the type that needs to see progress, no matter how small, and in this case, it’s literally a small thing to line out an item, or crumple the Post-It. You’d be amazed the little rise of satisfaction when you can toss that little list into the trash, crossed off and done.

They don’t have to be complicated. Actually it’s better if they’re super simple. Whatever your week, day, or next eight hours at the office needs to be, make your list as large as that need. My daily list might be: take prescription, drink water, call cable company, cancel Planet Fitness membership. Now regarding that last one, I should probably cross that off in the sense of not listing it at all, especially with summer around the corner, but just like my second oatmeal cream pie, I’ve justified my absence with needing comfort, rather than abs.

However you choose to construct your weapon against the everyday drag, you’ll find that whether the Post-It gets tossed away, or your list on your refrigerator gets smaller and smaller, the weight of this journey will get just a little bit lighter, like a chisel chipping away at our own stone we carry like Atlas and the world. Whether it’s keeping our children healthy and safe, or just remembering to take that pill, our burdens are large and small, but your list can make that next swing at your rock a little lighter.

Don’t forget to celebrate the small things. You’re awake, and reading, so that’s something. Whether you’re in pajamas or not isn’t important, but if getting up has been a struggle, then write it down, and cross it off. You did it. I probably won’t cancel that Planet Fitness membership, and I may not remember to call the cable company, but some days it’s been a battle of wills to get up and get to work every day in this struggle. We’ve all looked outside and asked what in the world is going on these days, and we’ve still pressed on. Let that strikethrough be another step forward, but don’t be discouraged when the list isn’t all crossed off. That’s what erasers are for. Or you can just add “eat a box of oatmeal cream pies” and then cross it off. Like me.