It’s Monday morning and my to-do list is no smaller today than any other day of the week/month/year. What I accomplished today so far isn’t on any list, nor is it something that most would find a priority item for the start of the week, yet, I feel fantastic having done it.
I skim-read a book I’ve been meaning to tackle for a few years. I learned stuff, I ignored stuff, I made mental notes for how I can apply certain aspects to my teaching and perhaps life itself.
I would’ve easily gone years more of not reading this particular book, but I gave myself time this morning. Time + task = success. It’s stupidly simple mathematics, I know, but I am swamped daily – mentally crippled – by things I need to do. This in turn leaves me helpless in the face of too many options/choices/dragons.
Today I gave myself a little time (self-imposed cutoff was to be noon) and
I ACCOMPLISHED SOMETHING. This may not seem a big deal to you, and maybe you’ve got it all together in your head*, but me? Nope. This is big. Big in the way that just getting that one, nagging book off my back makes me feel amazing. Successful. I can tackle anything now. The rest of my day will be built on this little big win, and I’m never going to look at the spine of that book and hate myself again.
And all it took was the gift of a little time.
*If this is you, I can only imagine you come here to read my blog for the same reason you go to the zoo to watch the creatures behind bars. At least I don’t fling poo or fiddle with myself in public. (That you know of.)