The best things about lists

lsproule@thereview.ca
Everyone who knows me knows I am a big advocate of lists. It’s all about being organized, I tell myself.
But whether you write things down or not, I think we all have lists running through our minds with the hope that they help keep us on track.
I especially like to write things down when I get to work in the morning . . . usually my day list and maybe some things I need to accomplish sometime during the week.
Our journalists have story lists and our ad department has a sales list which shows what’s coming up in the next three months . . . but of course we have the longer list which runs for the full 12 months.
We have a subscriber list, of course and on Facebook, we have a list of those of you who have decided to “like” The Review’s facebook page.
And then there are the lists we all take to the grocery store: these are lists of things we like to eat and things we need to stay happy in our homes. Just imagine your home without laundry detergent, toilet paper, milk and food.
At a memorial service last Saturday, another kind of list emerged as grandchildren took their place at the front of the room and with wavery voices, listed the qualities of their late grandmother: “she always had hugs, she would do anything for us, she loved us for who we were, she seemed to know everything about us.” Each must have known their grandmother in their own way, but their descriptions overlapped and clearly described the same person.
I got to thinking that instead of spending my days facing a perennial list of things still to be done, wouldn’t it be nice to make a different kind of list -- one which lists all the things I have done and maybe some of the good things that I do.
Wouldn’t it be nice to bask in the glow of past accomplishments and feel good for even one day instead of being held hostage by the day’s tasks which are just on the fringe of being impossible to accomplish?
Of course, our list of accomplishments might contain some items that are never complete, but sort of ongoing. These lists would describe who we are by what we do and what we want to do.
I like to keep my desk (more or less) clear. I like to keep my appointment calendar up to date. I like to try a new recipe every week. I like to do one thing every week that I have never done before. I want to make people laugh. I like to pick up someone walking in the cold and see the surprise and relief on their face when I offer them a lift to where they are going. (I guess I do this small-town thing just as much for me as for them.)
I laughed last week when someone I know posted their little girl’s “to-do” list on Facebook.
Here is Sage’s list:
“Colour cards. (That item
was crossed off.)
Eat lunch.
Eat dinner.
Be nice.”
Wouldn’t this simple list be a good starting point for all of us?
Yes, our lists point to the kind of people we want to be and it is as we listen to a life defined that a spark of joy is kindled even in the face of sadness at others’ loss.
First comes the understanding of the long and valuable reach we each have into the lives of those around us.
And second, there is a wave of optimism and relief as we each realize that we are not finished yet, that there is still time left: time to make fresh lists, sort out our priorities and live as the people we imagine ourselves to be.