What to do without the TO DO list. The $64K question.
I wanna check, highlight, permanent marker strike-thru. But there is no more to do when there is no clarity on what progress can/should be. So I’ll stay in this fantasy land of planning a future with someone that I don’t know. There’s a picture of a majestic place that I’m going to teleport us to, where your dirty dishes don’t need washing. It’s a place only for believers. Avoiders? It’s a fine line they say, living without the reality of communicating the mundane. Why have I not been making the fantastical truly the prettiest form of an avoidance tactic? My missing TO DO list will not prevent me from the purposeful use of my aging mind.
And then, let’s say you physically injure yourself … hypothetical or actual. Irrelevant. That highlighter that you used to color your productivity, breaks. You pushed too hard when you were capable of moving and ink pours out the felted tip and seeps onto page after page of future TO DO lists that you seemingly will never get to.
Frustrated you can’t do things now, you can’t do things in the future, and you can never really redo the past (we can change the story in our memory box, but the truth still floats Russian stacking doll-style, one locked level deeper) ….
Ouch. That’s all I got. I got no uplifting words right now, because I’m pissed. I’m angry. I hurt.
My emotions and hypothetical thoughts are all I’m capable of feeling and acting with right now. These all are rooted in some stone cold experiential practicality. There is no tight-sounding symphonic bird song that is going to lift me up out of this.
Wait do I hear something? I do. And it’s not just the cyclical sounds of my thoughts turning around in my skull. That’s just my 16 year old neighbor yelling at his mother.
roadside yogi 