In recent months, I have come to realise, that my life, in
all its simplicities and complexities, is held together by one thing, and one
thing only –
- the list.
Yes, … the humble, unassuming, and yet, all-powerful ‘list.’
Whilst I am becoming increasingly worried about this
phenomenon, this lowly prop at the same time, strangely comforts me. And, I admit, it is exactly that - a prop that
forms the scaffolding to support the otherwise fluffy and frankly flummoxed furore
that resides unchallenged inside my head.
Unchallenged, that is, until
along came the list.
So there we have it. My
weapon of choice - my armour against anarchy - the list!
This, for me, ensures that order conquers chaos.
I am very fussy about my disorder. It must be orderly. I insist that my pandemonium is arranged in
little boxes that are labelled and opened as determined by my list. Then, hey presto, job done! No chaos!
Some people can exist quite happily amongst the commotion
that results from a world without lists – these people, who function without a
framework of orderliness are to be admired, pitied, or, I have to say, even
envied. These people find themselves in Tesco four
times a day because they don’t have a list.
And so it will take four trips to buy enough food to make the tea. But incongruously, despite this ridiculous
flirtation with supermarkets, these mysterious people believe that they don’t want or
even need a list. And, furthermore –
they actually do not care!
You will have guessed by now that I am not one of the
above. However, I am not a total slave
to the list. Being a
‘with-it-woman-of-the-moment’ my day must obviously start with a quick scan of
Facebook, seamlessly followed by the ritual consultation of ‘the list’. And then my day can begin.
A number of you will by now be thinking that I really should
seek some sort of therapy. Perhaps you
are right. Indeed, perhaps there is no doubting
it when my list starts with: ‘Wake up’,
‘Get Up’, ‘Consult list’, or even worse:
“Make a list”
Yes, it’s a worry!
Having said that, the unpretentious list is one of life’s
most effective coping mechanisms. Not
only does it give us order, it makes us question what’s important in our lives
and forces us to prioritise. It gives us
purpose and direction and it can give us hope and determination. You
don’t have to read many bucket lists to see how powerful a list can be.
Simply put, if you haven’t got a list of things to do then
the chances are you will never actually do it.
And not only that, with a list, you can get all you need for
tea in one trip to Tesco!
Lists, of course, take many forms. There are the timeless scribbled lists on the
kitchen board or calendar reminding you to get the bread, milk, butter, sugar …
wine….
And there are now countless mind-boggling list-Apps for your
devices to bring your list-making bang up to date.
But I am not a fan of the App.
I like to write my list on paper – with a favourite
pen. I like to feel it, smell it, look
at it far more often than is healthy, tuck it in my pocket or see it sticking
tauntingly out of my handbag and then ….
… tick it off!
Oh the joy!
Deleting an item on an App just doesn’t have the same effect
as that most satisfying ‘tick’!
Done that.
Achieved. I am a superstar!
So, I will continue to make my lists. I will keep trying to impose order on my life
and on those around me by having written something down that has to be
done.
Because it’s important.
It matters.
For me, when it comes to lists, the only thing sadder than
not having a list is having nothing at all to write on it.
