Monday Morning, and My To-Do List Spilled Onto a Second Page

It was eight forty on Monday morning, and I was the only one in the office. While the computer started up, I opened my notebook and began writing down what I had to do this week. The report deadline, the materials for Wednesday's meeting, emails I needed to answer, the expense report I'd put off. The lines kept adding up, and before I knew it the page was full and had run over onto the next one. The fluorescent lights in the corridor were still only half on, so only the area above my desk was bright. From far away I could hear a cleaner's cart.

While I was writing, it felt like I was getting organized, but once I'd finished it looked less like organizing and more like something I had piled up. Just reading the list, my shoulders had risen. Like someone already worn out before having started anything. I folded and unfolded the corner of the notebook with my thumb. The pages looked thick, so I flipped through them once more for no reason.

What troubled me more were the things that weren't on the list. What if this goes wrong, what do I say if that person says this. Worries that weren't written on the paper wedged themselves between the lines of the list and kept going around in my head. I took a sip of coffee and could hardly taste it. The steam that had been rising from the cup beside the monitor had settled by now.

What can be written down and what can't

After staring at the notebook for a long time, I used the tip of my pen to separate two things. What I could actually put my hands on today, and what was just worry. Worry isn't a list, so no matter how long I looked at it, it didn't get shorter. And it didn't disappear just because I made up my mind that it would. I put down the pen and straightened my back once. The chair creaked softly.

Before the screen came on, I opened still().

casting all your worries on him, because he cares for you.

1 Peter 5:7 (WEB)

My eyes stopped on the word “all”. It read to me as including not only the worries that were sorted out, but even the ones I hadn't yet been able to name. Even so, it would be a lie to say the worries were gone because I read this. It's only that when I took it as meaning I don't have to carry everything alone, my raised shoulders came down a little.

At the top of the notebook I copied out just three things to do today. I left the rest on the back page and closed that page. For the first line I chose the smallest task, answering one email. After I've done that, I'll look at the next line when I get there. Next to the first line I drew a small box and left it empty for a check mark. Looking at that box, my breathing loosened a little. I decided not to hurry even when the screen lit up and the first email notification appeared.

Today's breath — Only three lines for today. Let out one breath and start with the first line.