It seems the more I am told I “can’t” do something the harder it becomes to not do it. Or at least plan to do it. I can’t bend down or lift anything over 10lbs? Suddenly all the yardwork and projects I have wanted to do all summer seem overwhelmingly appealing.  I can’t be in the sun because of a medication? I really should scrape and paint the house.

Maybe the answer is to tell me I can’t rest in bed for more than the 8 hrs I’m allowed to sleep, or that I must maintain a regular schedule and not do any leisure activities. Or maybe just inform the Fates and the world that I need to keep it light for a while. Except for being the chosen plaything of the Fates, that just might work.

Day 1 of me being down this time brought slow drains in all the house. OK, so I passed on trying to fix that immediately.

Day 2 presented a dryer that would not dry. OK, maybe if we just wash the clothes needed most… and the fates snickered.

Day 3 I was at a post-op check with my doctor when I got the call my little girl’s fish had died at the paws of my big girl’s cat. The fish water was splashed and spilled all over most of their new school clothes during the fracas.

Day 4 I was feeling restless and frustrated (yeah, I’m surprised I lasted that long, too). I pulled out the dryer and took the back panel off to fix it, but I did ask for help rather than taking a nose-dive over the back to reconnect the hoses myself.

Day 5, today, and I’m about done with taking it easy and asking for help. Or I was until my doctor’s appointment this morning where he took out or replaced some stitches or something. I’m not terribly clear on it because I was just trying not to pass out. So after lying down with cold compresses a while I admit that all I wanted to do was “take it easy.”

I’ve been taught to aim high, dream big, and go for it.  Cliche?  Maybe.  But this works for me:

• Set a goal and write it down.
• Decide if it is long-term, short-term, or mid-range.
• List the logical steps to reach the goal.
• Order the goals, and their steps, by importance and how they build upon each other.
• Write it out and get to work.
• Check back often with myself on how I am doing, what needs to be done, and if my goals may have changed or to add new goals.

Depending upon the project or goal, I even break it down further.  For example, I am working on fixing up a nearly 100 year old building.  I live in a cold climate, and the building has no heat, so I have my lists divided into things I can do in  various weather (latex paint needs at least 50 degrees, latex/silicone caulk needs 40 degrees, and oil-based primer needs 35 degrees according to the labels on the products I am using).  Some things inside like cleaning the gaps in the hardwood floors I can do even in the worst of weather.  Still other things like trim work are brought in the house to be finished before they are installed in the outbuilding.  The landscaping will have to wait until the ground thaws in spring.  But, some things still need to be done in a logical order such as priming before painting, despite what Mother Nature decides to send for temperatures.

The simplest form of organizing goals is what I try to teach my children:  Work first, then play.  Or as my dad told me many times over, “Get your priorities straight.”  That is a work-in-progress for me.  There are things I used to think were important that time has taught me just don’t matter as much as I thought.  Sometimes priorities and circumstances just change, so your goals need to adapt as well.

Decide.  Plan.  Work.  Check your progress.  Feel the satisfaction of accomplishment.  Never stop.

I grew up with making lists.  They help me keep organized and from forgetting important things.  As time has passed, I probably use them more often to prevent forgetfulness than before, which only means they are working harder than ever for me.

There are times in my cleaning that I come across an old list of mine and it can be like a mini time-capsule, bringing back memories from when I made it.  I enjoy finding lists from my grandparents or great-grandparents and get a better glimpse of their lives.  What did Grandma buy most weeks at the store and who was fond of doodling in the edges?  What were the key points Grandpa took the time to jot down for a speech?  In my family history research I treasure lists and treat them as I would journal entries.

Lists can be very powerful tools and I am thankful it is a habit passed down to me.

I’m looking for my motivation.  It’s missing.  As is my sleep.  I wonder how much they are connected.  Sleep and health and good nutrition probably all play a part in fueling your day, but when you are lacking, how do you find the motivation needed?

I have so much I need and want to do each day, and I am dragging.  Just wanting to get something done only gets you so far.  You need a body healthy enough to carry out your plans.  So maybe that’s where I should begin.  I am dreading my upcoming visit with my Doc, and have put off scheduling it.  Until then, I should work on what I can, like decent nutrition and making a better evening routine and schedule for sleep.  Wish me luck.

I have been watching movies while I quilt and I recently saw Sunshine Cleaning.  I won’t give the story away but I went into it thinking it was going to be a comedy.  It wasn’t so much a comedy as I had hoped.  In one part, the main character runs into some people from high school and is not exactly where she thought she’d be in life at that point.  It got me thinking.  Is anyone where they thought they would be when they were still in high school, oblivious to the real world, and making plans?  I almost think it would be boring to have everything turn out just as you expected as a teenager.  And I say this as a person who had been all around the world and seen a lot of interesting cultures and things by the time I got my diploma.

My plan was concise, ordered, logical, and perfectly timed right down to when I would marry or have children, as if anyone can really time those things ten or twenty years in advance.  My plan was idealized and simplistic, too.  And boring.  And safe.  I even had my back-up plans if this or that didn’t fall into place.  Those plans were boring, too.  The commonality was they assumed a happily ever after, no setbacks, nothing unplanned.  I would have had a better chance winning a lottery than I did of having all of my plans fall into place.

Real life brings the unplanned, the variables of other people, and the unthinkable.  Real life challenges you to grow, to become more than you were.  Real life is not safe.  It certainly hasn’t been boring, either.

Back in high school I never imagined the trials and traumas that life would bring.  Back then, I never could have imagined the me I have become by struggling through those things.  I never knew I could take so many hits and keep getting back up.  That person I planned was as boring and safe and simplistic as my plans were.  I think of the person I thought I would be now, and who I am, and I choose me.