Every day I write a list. Every day, the list contains my hopes. If someone looked at my planner, three items never change: exercise, write, and pray. Whether one praised the consistency of effort, (or at least, aspirations) or perceived a Sisyphean struggle, I write into the list: exercise, write and pray.
Somehow, tinkering with that mini trinity of priorities strikes me as surrendering personhood, abandoning the horse, the driver and the chariot of thought for devolving into someone less challenging with no drive or direction. Staying at home with children for twenty-two years, the months and weeks merge into each other, and I forget whole swaths of time, because the stitching in them, remains too similar. Exercise, write, pray, the list demands variety. Sometimes I run, other times I box. Sometimes I write poetry, but mostly essays. The rosary changes from day to day, and thus distinctions between Mondays and Thursdays exist, on the page and in reality.
On occasion, I forget to write a list. Those days fall into the cracks of my memory, with little done and less remembered. Those days injure my capacity to start over the day following. Those days scare me. Those days reveal quitting as an ever possible outcome; so I return to my planner and write exercise, write, pray, (even if the day ended), as a form of defiance of a defeated day. The list reminds me to pay attention to my body, mind and soul, even as I try to take care of the house and the dry cleaning, the car and the laundry.
This past week’s small successes include:
- Returning to the gym. (I know, it’s not enough to put it on the list, I have to go).
- Returning to praying with more consistency. (again, see above).
- Restarting work on a writing project, trying to take it more seriously.
Thanks for sticking with me even though I don’t always stick to my list.
I hope this week, you had some great small successes to share!
Copyright 2015 Sherry Antonetti.