I’m a big writer of lists.
To-do lists, priority lists, aspiration lists, reading lists, sewing lists, language lists, et cetera, und so weiter, i tak dalee. Sometimes I cross my accomplishments off, often they remain pitifully unresolved. Over time, I’ve come not only to accept this unfinished state of affairs, but to revel in it.
I like to think of my lists as conversations between my past and future selves. Past-me writes a list of things she wants future-me to accomplish. At some point, future-me comes across past-me’s list and decides what to do about it.
Sometimes I look at my un-crossed items and think, “Dear past-Laura, that was a really dumb idea, why did you want to do that?” Or maybe I think “Oh hey, I still want to do that, good reminder.”
Then I look at my checked off items and give myself a mental high-five for making my past self proud. I’m a big advocate of becoming the awesome person your past self always wanted you to be, but it has to be a dialog: past-you doesn’t get to dictate everything future-you does any more than future-you gets to tell past-you to bugger off.
Past-me wrote a huge list of things for future-me to do over the weekend. What I wanted to do and what I was actually able to accomplish diverged from that list. But I think past-me would be pretty proud nonetheless.