It Seemed Important at the Time

On Monday mornings, I often sit down and try to map out the day and week ahead. To-do lists, calendars and the never-ending jumble of stuff that needs doing don't always play nicely together in my mind.

Occasionally, I come across a to-do list from days gone by and wonder why certain things made the top of the list that day.

As time marches on and life picks up the pace, it feels more pressing to get priorities right and not waste opportunities. There are two major issues that come into my deliberations on a regular basis.

The first relates to the ability to manage the "creative urge" ... or to allow it a window of opportunity to manage me. That "urge" often arrives inextricably entangled with a sense of "urge-ncy"; the fear that if we don't capture that thought, that idea, that technique, it will pass us by and be lost forever. (I may have mentioned this before, but Elizabeth Gilbert's brilliant TED talk on creative genius is worth viewing.) There is a real adrenaline rush when we allow ourselves the time to ride a creative surge and see where it might take us, but we can't surf that wave all day every day and still get the dishes done.

The second issue is that some of our most important priorities never get written down or put on any lists. Perhaps they are so present in our consciousness at all times that they don't seem to mingle well with the ordinary everyday tasks. But without any formal recognition or structure, those priorities may be continually pushed aside or postponed by more immediate calls on our attention. Good intentions are not enough.

These days, the question I ask myself is this: if I were to unearth today's to-do list in a week, a month, a year from now, would it make sense to me, or would I look at it and wonder "why did I think that was so important at the time?" 

Snowed Under

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This winter seems to be passing in slow motion.

This sense of extended time was amplified when I saw the Cloud Gate dance company perform The Wanderers as part of the Danse Danse program at Place des Arts last week. The continous showers of golden rice pouring down over a still figure—and the gracefully controlled performance of the dancers—created an atmosphere where time slowed down, but our sense of time also expanded... almost to a point of timelessness.

Unexpected, drifting, falling... we seem to have very little control over what drops into our lives from day to day.

Seasons shift and change their shape, becoming other than what we expect of them... showing up early or late, dressed in clothes we didn't expect and don't remember seeing before...