The Audacious To Do List

Getting unstuck. And, where money goals, flu shots, and Da Vinci's "Draw Milan" converge.

I’ve been in a rut. Not a ditch-level rut, but one just rut-esque enough that over the past month I could literally sense it lingering nearby, like someone eavesdropping in the hallway 👻.

It probably started mid-summer, with a mountain of things on my seasonal To Do list, stuff that required more-than-usual $$ resources, time, and specialized support I didn’t exactly have. Things I was scared to ask for help with. Things I was scared would languish endlessly on said LIST if I actually added them.

Photo by Jen Steele

So I didn’t.

This was new territory for me, since as long as I can remember, my To Do lists have been as essential to me as, say, good COFFEE. Or watching Beaches on my birthday. For the past 427 years, I’ve written/kept my lists in my journal, and even though I have an archive of I-don’t-even-know-how-many-journals at this point in my life (the contents of one entire deep bathroom cabinet), I do know that each of these journals contains an outrageous number of running To Do lists, some of them likely very amusing to peruse today (which I will not). And, each of them a devoted documenter of my singular—ie: obsessive—preoccupations. Early on it was getting published, chronicled by rage-fueled bulleted lists of my endless outreach to editors/friends-of-friends/ANYONE who might be piqued by a story/pitch about, IDK, rare stereo repair people or an unsung shoemaker. There have been lists of all my very specific life-defining shopping pursuits, from a walkable fancy sandal (still looking) to a small-space/high-quality modular sofa. Over the years, there’s also been a consistent fanciful accounting of my daily finances…bills to pay and $$$ to be manifested. There were many times when I wasn’t ever earning enough to actually save, but that never stopped me from adding my dream bank balance to my To Do list. (I still do.)

Journals = a Life in To Do lists.

No surprise, but there’s also something intrinsically linked between a regular To Do list practice and living in a small(er) space. Mainly because it requires thoughtfulness, attention to detail AND moments of singular beauty, as well as a scrupulous eye for trimming back anything outmoded or unnecessary. It’s about carving out the space—even if you don’t have a lot of it to begin with—to think about what we want…as well as what we don’t want lingering in the background anymore.
It’s not just list-making but Life-making.

To that point, I found this article recently about a translated record of Leonardo Da Vinci’s To Do list from 1490. Apparently, he, too, favored keeping To Do lists in his journal. A snapshot here…

I mean, I’m sure Da Vinci kept track of his derm appointments and dental cleanings as much as the rest of us. But it’s that “Draw Milan” at the top that really got me. The big swirly thing that despite its creative sprawl feels like a perfectly good task to sandwich in between paying your bills and finding a master of hydraulics.

So yeah, my recent rut was unequivocally linked to my To Do list. And the fact that I’d lost track of it. Disconnected from it. Maybe was avoiding it. Writing and tracking my list has always been an anchor and compass for me, and w/out it, I’d unknowingly lost the plot. I honestly couldn’t even remember the last time I’d referenced it or even checked anything off. And even though I was avoiding the weekly housekeeping of life that I sorely needed to get on top of—like family flu shots, thank you notes, and a few hulking bills to pay—I was also inadvertently avoiding the GOOD stuff, too. The fun stuff. The bigger, audacious Da Vinci-style things we get to ALSO put on our List and play with in our minds that we consciously/subconsciously plan for.

I’ve always loved Malcolm Gladwell’s piece about Late Bloomers in The New Yorker from 2008, because essentially one of those key elements of people who come into their own later in life, is that it simply takes more time to cultivate what it is they want to offer the world. It requires practice and polishing and starts/stops/ruts/redos to get into the genuine groove of it.

And I think, in some small way, an active To Do list plays a part in this process. Becoming a faithful record-keeper of the essay we’ve stalled in the middle of and have to keep working on, the doctor’s appointment we’re scared to book, or scheduling the last bits of work on the cabin…so we can finally live in it and share it w/the people we love.

So, I got back to work. Like, IMMEDIATELY.

And when I did, I realized that I actually have a practice for my To Do lists that I had missed. That I love. That feels like home to me. And that’s helped pull me out of any number of gnarly ruts, in order to shift, re-orient, and expand more than I ever realized. And so, here it is…an easy recipe—four simple steps for getting unstuck and back on track. And, in some no-nonsense jump-cable way, getting happy/hopeful again, too.

(Code for: To Do list)