If you know me, you know I’m all about the lists. Here’s a pic of a list my daughter wrote on one of my lists earlier this year. It cracked me up because the poor child has suffered my lists for all 21 years of her life.
I don’t make lists for absolutely everything, though my life would be way more organized if I did. Lists get made when I’m feeling particularly overwhelmed. (Just plain ol’ overwhelmed is my natural ADHD state, of course.) But now, at this important list time of year, I am stymied. Yes, I’ve made my Christmas gift-giving lists, organized into Friends, Family, Professional Contacts, and Service People sections. I have a list of the traditions we want to make sure we observe during the Christmas holidays. I even have a list of what gifts need to be shipped, and where. But I can’t get my own wishlist to my husband to save my own life.
The Raging ADHD Package comes with a hefty supply of personal clutter. Oh, I have all the stuff. Endless, endless lists of stuff. I used to worry that I didn’t have hobbies–earlier in my life it was all writing and toddlers. Now I’m all out of toddlers (thank goodness) and I imagine that I have all this extra time to do things. So I do them for a while. And then I do something else. And that something else requires stuff. I really do like to do all these things: make bread, take photographs, play the piano, garden, do needlepoint and embroidery, read, read, read, play with electronic things and watch films, do large puzzles (this is a NEW thing), play golf, take hikes, travel. Oh, and Legos. I love to build those Lego buildings. It’s too embarrassing to go on. It’s not like I abandon projects regularly. Sometimes I put them on pause for a couple of weeks. Or months. But I always come back.
My life is so full. Of family. Of work. Of friends. Of love. And words. Goodness, I love words. It’s one of the reasons I’m writing this post instead of putting together a Christmas wishlist for my sweet, generous husband.
So here’s my next list project:
1) Do One Thing At A Time.
2) Finish That Thing.
3) Rest and Appreciate.
4) Start the Next Thing.
I spent a lot of time one night this week trying to explain my list anxiety to my husband. Now that I recall it, it probably sounded a lot like whining. One of our family stories is about our daughter–who was four or five at the time–bursting into tears because there was too much icing on her cupcake. We tried hard not to laugh. But it’s true, isn’t it? Sometimes we can’t handle it when we’re too blessed.
My cupcake is overflowing with goodness. It’s time to take a step back and appreciate it. Appreciate the non-stuff in my life. Work on balance, gratitude, and calm. It’s not about the wishlist. It’s about the love behind the request. I’m one lucky girl.