![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trickykittyYou can fool all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool yourself for a second.
I totally agree with this statement from the article Don't Manage Time, Manage Yourself.
Here's another pertinent aspect of the GTD methodology from that article:
Ask yourself a question: From the minute you woke up this morning until right now, have you thought about something that you need to do but haven't done?...You've got to get that item off your mind. And you don't need to finish it to get it off your mind. You just need to clarify your agreement with yourself. For most people, that means making a list. ...not every item on every list requires immediate action. There's always more to do than what you can do. But you can feel good about what you're not doing only when you know what you're not doing.
I think it's the part about renegotiating the agreement that I have such a hard time with. I told myself that I wanted to get a task done and that I wanted to do it ASAP. Then something else came up. Then something else. Next thing I know that to-do list is a mile long, but not one thing on there has moved from the Do ASAP into the Maybe Later or the Just Forget About It categories. They are all pressing and needy little projects that I really do want to get done.
I think my brain is like my closet. I don't want to get rid of the dress that was my favorite from 10 years ago that might again fit if I just lose that extra 20 pounds, simply because I still want to wear it again. Humans are natural pack rats, and that includes our to-do lists. There are projects that are mentally put out there to be done ASAP, and I for one go into auto guilt mode if I try to renegotiate to put it off till later or flat out throw the thought into that mental funeral pyre that really doesn't get fed all too often.
You see it doesn't matter that I've written it up, jotted it down, blurted it out - it's still something thathas I want to get done, and knowing what it is actually stresses me out even more. I'm reminded continuously of how much I promised myself I would work on and, even worse, how much of that Stuff is still just sitting there goading me into killing myself for being the lazy, unfaithful-to-myself git that I really am. I make myself a promise to do something and then I go watch a movie. How horrible of a person must I really be to do such a thing to myself???
So, dramatization aside, my brain bugs me and pokes at me because the list is not EMPTY.
"But no one's list is ever empty," you say. You lie! There was once a time when I was a kid that my brain was completely empty {insert blonde jokes here}. I was BORED. I didn't have pending to-do items. I had my choice of roller skating in the street for fun, riding my bike in the street for fun, bouncing a ball in the street for fun, or getting run over in the street for fun. (I hope you see the common thread of potential bumps, bruises, blood, and hospital trips that flows through my previous leisure habits of old.) If I felt like building a tent I just built it. I didn't put it off till later. And if instead I got called to the dinner table, I didn't put it on a to-do-later list. I forgot about it. There was no promise ever made in the first place that the tent would absolutely for sure be built.
So what is it about these promises that we make to ourselves that make them so damned important? My brain used to let things go and now my brain obsesses freakishly over every little thing. I feel as though I have to invoke the power of a system like GTD not because I can't manage all that Stuff in my life, but because there exists Stuff for me to manage in the first place.
Whatever happened to that Zen processing of stuff that we used to do as kids? You know the one I'm talking about. The Forget It philosophy. The Oh, Now I Want That Shiny and This Shiny Can Just Go Away process. The only list I ever made as a child went to some imaginary fat old elf in velvet red and white pajamas with combat boots for foot apparel. Funny thing, though, I could never remember what I wrote on that list after I handed it over to him, except for Hungry-Hungry-Hippos, which I waited patiently for many years to receive and now loath the noise that it makes when my nephews bring out theirs. Evil Santa Hate because of that game.
Ahem, where was I?
The Forget It philosophy. I think I actually know a few people who practice this in such a manner as they should be placed on gilded pedestals and worshiped from afar. Somewhere down the line I transformed into this creature of to-do-list doom that now has to rely on a system/methodology/self-help program in order to manage all of the promises I've made to myself. It is at this point that I realize I need help, and that while GTD systems help manage it, I feel more like throwing a real-life bonfire and starting over from scratch.
Hello, My name is Nikki, and I'm addicted to my Stuff.
I totally agree with this statement from the article Don't Manage Time, Manage Yourself.
Here's another pertinent aspect of the GTD methodology from that article:
Ask yourself a question: From the minute you woke up this morning until right now, have you thought about something that you need to do but haven't done?...You've got to get that item off your mind. And you don't need to finish it to get it off your mind. You just need to clarify your agreement with yourself. For most people, that means making a list. ...not every item on every list requires immediate action. There's always more to do than what you can do. But you can feel good about what you're not doing only when you know what you're not doing.
I think it's the part about renegotiating the agreement that I have such a hard time with. I told myself that I wanted to get a task done and that I wanted to do it ASAP. Then something else came up. Then something else. Next thing I know that to-do list is a mile long, but not one thing on there has moved from the Do ASAP into the Maybe Later or the Just Forget About It categories. They are all pressing and needy little projects that I really do want to get done.
I think my brain is like my closet. I don't want to get rid of the dress that was my favorite from 10 years ago that might again fit if I just lose that extra 20 pounds, simply because I still want to wear it again. Humans are natural pack rats, and that includes our to-do lists. There are projects that are mentally put out there to be done ASAP, and I for one go into auto guilt mode if I try to renegotiate to put it off till later or flat out throw the thought into that mental funeral pyre that really doesn't get fed all too often.
You see it doesn't matter that I've written it up, jotted it down, blurted it out - it's still something that
So, dramatization aside, my brain bugs me and pokes at me because the list is not EMPTY.
"But no one's list is ever empty," you say. You lie! There was once a time when I was a kid that my brain was completely empty {insert blonde jokes here}. I was BORED. I didn't have pending to-do items. I had my choice of roller skating in the street for fun, riding my bike in the street for fun, bouncing a ball in the street for fun, or getting run over in the street for fun. (I hope you see the common thread of potential bumps, bruises, blood, and hospital trips that flows through my previous leisure habits of old.) If I felt like building a tent I just built it. I didn't put it off till later. And if instead I got called to the dinner table, I didn't put it on a to-do-later list. I forgot about it. There was no promise ever made in the first place that the tent would absolutely for sure be built.
So what is it about these promises that we make to ourselves that make them so damned important? My brain used to let things go and now my brain obsesses freakishly over every little thing. I feel as though I have to invoke the power of a system like GTD not because I can't manage all that Stuff in my life, but because there exists Stuff for me to manage in the first place.
Whatever happened to that Zen processing of stuff that we used to do as kids? You know the one I'm talking about. The Forget It philosophy. The Oh, Now I Want That Shiny and This Shiny Can Just Go Away process. The only list I ever made as a child went to some imaginary fat old elf in velvet red and white pajamas with combat boots for foot apparel. Funny thing, though, I could never remember what I wrote on that list after I handed it over to him, except for Hungry-Hungry-Hippos, which I waited patiently for many years to receive and now loath the noise that it makes when my nephews bring out theirs. Evil Santa Hate because of that game.
Ahem, where was I?
The Forget It philosophy. I think I actually know a few people who practice this in such a manner as they should be placed on gilded pedestals and worshiped from afar. Somewhere down the line I transformed into this creature of to-do-list doom that now has to rely on a system/methodology/self-help program in order to manage all of the promises I've made to myself. It is at this point that I realize I need help, and that while GTD systems help manage it, I feel more like throwing a real-life bonfire and starting over from scratch.
Hello, My name is Nikki, and I'm addicted to my Stuff.
