One Foot in Front of the Other

I headed into this week with quite some trepidation – unsure how I was going to make it through the mother of all task lists. Two days in, I’m starting to relax a little. The road ahead doesn’t look quite as precipitous as first imagined. I do this a lot, by the way – stressing over things that I haven’t started, and then switching into “one foot in front of the other” mode in order to cope. While others complain, flap, or question, I find putting one foot in front of the other tends to serve me well.

Tomorrow will be more of the same – more plodding, more furious scribbling in the bullet journal, more attempts to ignore the builders working on our house, and more wondering what the future might bring.

Earlier in the year I toyed with some online to-do-list applications, but ended up running back to the bullet journal with my tail behind my legs. I don’t have to think when using a paper notebook and a pen – I just write things down – apparently more neatly than most. I’ve always found it quite surprising when others remark at my notebook pages – it’s only writing.

I remember once while running a training course, somebody held my notebook up to the class and said “why does my writing not look like this?” – and a lady across the room quietly said “because he cares”.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I suspect there might be half a bottle of wine hiding in the fridge, and some rubbish TV that needs watching. Time to switch off. Time to slow down.

2 replies on “One Foot in Front of the Other”

For planning, I love a yellow legal pad and a pen. The brain works differently using different tools. In my youth I used to write long hand-written letters. When I switched to word-processing, people told me I was not as funny. Oh well.
I hate to admit it, but I am a Nervous Nell. I’m the one, awake in the middle of the night, fretting about how this project or that will turn out. As a younger me, I tended to over-prepare. Properly channeled, this is a recipe for success, so don’t worry about it to much. After all, worrying about your worrying doesn’t hone any particular advantageous skill. Just stick to your regular worrying. It’ll be fine. (Oh, and in my youth, running and swimming helped a lot.)


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