Are you a writer of lists?
I used to be an avid list writer. If pushed, I'll still write one now. I have pads of paper that prompt list writing; my favourite is headed 'This Week ... or next ...' which sums me up perfectly. An average procrastinator will put off the listed activities to another week, another time, another dimension, perhaps. A fully committed procrastinator - or FCP - will put off the writing of the list! I am an FCP ... most of the time - carrying around bits of lists in my head; forgetting to do the things I might have remembered if I had written them down; and, until I am reminded, remaining blissfully ignorant of my many failings. Many failings that are obvious only if categorised and the only way to categorise them would be to write them down. So, as I am not going to list them and I defy anyone else to, perhaps those failings, ultimately undocumented ... or unlisted, can be forgotten. Who, apart from someone with narcissistic tendencies, wants to make lists of their own life and its foibles anyway?
Why dedicate a blog to lists? And what for that matter is a list?
List : noun, definition - a sequence of connected items; usually arranged vertically on a page. Also, verb - to record or chronicle or arrange into a list. And verb - what happens when the mother-ship is overburdened with festive jobs and put-off tasks that can no longer be put off - such as the wrapping of presents - she lists to the side or heels over, usually following the wine glass into a comfy chair.
The making of lists by those of the non-FCP persuasion and very occasionally by a desperate FCP is a fairly benign activity. It is not particularly threatening. Nor particularly interesting. And is definitely of no interest to other list writers. There isn't a tribe of biggest and best list writers. No one will tell you your list sucks. Only you will find that out. For yourself.
Yes, I know, there are collaborative lists. Lists drawn up by committee. Strategy, planning, delegation, in fact management in general, is all about divvying out a list of jobs. Jobs from exciting, potentially life changing, unique opportunities to mind-numbingly repetitive, menial tasks; lists come in different shapes and sizes -
lists of favourites; of friends; of places to visit; of music; of ingredients; of television programs; of names in a class; of books; of shopping; of invitees to a party.
Generally, lists are a declaration of interest or an aide memoire or a pleasurable, harmless, accumulative passtime.
Until you add the words to and do.
Add these to any list and the pleasurable element tends to disappear. It evaporates quicker than you can assemble the list. The list grows into a stick to beat yourself with. Yes' it's still an aide memoire, but it's now one with consequences.
If it is not completed, there will have to be a new list with more severe consequences.
The whole to do listing activity can rapidly escalate until the keeper of multiple unmet lists becomes fearful to make another. Scared into inaction by the fear of failure.
In my hands, to do lists are put-off-doing lists.
The lists of an FCP are lists of dreams not achieved, tasks not completed and self-promises never kept. The put off doing list is a pointless list.
So ... why do I still sometimes write lists?
I am surrounded by successful list keepers. And I say keepers rather than writers deliberately. They keep their lists. Successfully created, nurtured and met. What do I do wrong? Perhaps, mine are too aspirational, too improbable, too long, or too impossible to execute. Although, in the case of execution, scissors or flame or simply crumpling up into a ball destroys them pretty well. And violent execution of a dead to do list is joyous because of the angst expunged. And the removal of any further self-humiliation. But I digress ... still beating myself up at the presents not wrapped; the cake only just iced; the vegetables not yet peeled and the red cabbage not sliced. I list when I have to.
I made a to do list today. 24th December. And drum roll please, I have successfully completed about half of it. If I don't complete the rest, it doesn't matter. Too much. And the after midnight programs on television are usually pretty good when I sit wrapping the presents and Shhh! drinking the big man's tipple.
Have a very happy and restful Christmas.
And come back soon for a pre-New Year blog. And a list of resolutions ...
I used to be an avid list writer. If pushed, I'll still write one now. I have pads of paper that prompt list writing; my favourite is headed 'This Week ... or next ...' which sums me up perfectly. An average procrastinator will put off the listed activities to another week, another time, another dimension, perhaps. A fully committed procrastinator - or FCP - will put off the writing of the list! I am an FCP ... most of the time - carrying around bits of lists in my head; forgetting to do the things I might have remembered if I had written them down; and, until I am reminded, remaining blissfully ignorant of my many failings. Many failings that are obvious only if categorised and the only way to categorise them would be to write them down. So, as I am not going to list them and I defy anyone else to, perhaps those failings, ultimately undocumented ... or unlisted, can be forgotten. Who, apart from someone with narcissistic tendencies, wants to make lists of their own life and its foibles anyway?
Why dedicate a blog to lists? And what for that matter is a list?
List : noun, definition - a sequence of connected items; usually arranged vertically on a page. Also, verb - to record or chronicle or arrange into a list. And verb - what happens when the mother-ship is overburdened with festive jobs and put-off tasks that can no longer be put off - such as the wrapping of presents - she lists to the side or heels over, usually following the wine glass into a comfy chair.
The making of lists by those of the non-FCP persuasion and very occasionally by a desperate FCP is a fairly benign activity. It is not particularly threatening. Nor particularly interesting. And is definitely of no interest to other list writers. There isn't a tribe of biggest and best list writers. No one will tell you your list sucks. Only you will find that out. For yourself.
Yes, I know, there are collaborative lists. Lists drawn up by committee. Strategy, planning, delegation, in fact management in general, is all about divvying out a list of jobs. Jobs from exciting, potentially life changing, unique opportunities to mind-numbingly repetitive, menial tasks; lists come in different shapes and sizes -
lists of favourites; of friends; of places to visit; of music; of ingredients; of television programs; of names in a class; of books; of shopping; of invitees to a party.
Generally, lists are a declaration of interest or an aide memoire or a pleasurable, harmless, accumulative passtime.
Until you add the words to and do.
Add these to any list and the pleasurable element tends to disappear. It evaporates quicker than you can assemble the list. The list grows into a stick to beat yourself with. Yes' it's still an aide memoire, but it's now one with consequences.
If it is not completed, there will have to be a new list with more severe consequences.
The whole to do listing activity can rapidly escalate until the keeper of multiple unmet lists becomes fearful to make another. Scared into inaction by the fear of failure.
In my hands, to do lists are put-off-doing lists.
The lists of an FCP are lists of dreams not achieved, tasks not completed and self-promises never kept. The put off doing list is a pointless list.
So ... why do I still sometimes write lists?
I am surrounded by successful list keepers. And I say keepers rather than writers deliberately. They keep their lists. Successfully created, nurtured and met. What do I do wrong? Perhaps, mine are too aspirational, too improbable, too long, or too impossible to execute. Although, in the case of execution, scissors or flame or simply crumpling up into a ball destroys them pretty well. And violent execution of a dead to do list is joyous because of the angst expunged. And the removal of any further self-humiliation. But I digress ... still beating myself up at the presents not wrapped; the cake only just iced; the vegetables not yet peeled and the red cabbage not sliced. I list when I have to.
I made a to do list today. 24th December. And drum roll please, I have successfully completed about half of it. If I don't complete the rest, it doesn't matter. Too much. And the after midnight programs on television are usually pretty good when I sit wrapping the presents and Shhh! drinking the big man's tipple.
Have a very happy and restful Christmas.
And come back soon for a pre-New Year blog. And a list of resolutions ...
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