Making a list. Checking it more than twice.

It's safe to say that crossing things off a "to do" list is one of the best feelings ever. Whether it's a list for the day, or things to accomplish on a more long-term timeline, checking off things as "completed" - even the smallest things - gives me warm fuzzies. Most of my "get this stuff done" lists make their way to post-it notes in my quaint little cube. They sit waiting in my peripheral vision. Sometimes taunting. Sometimes nagging. Sometimes just there to subtly remind me. And oftentimes, they sit there for a while. Which makes the reward all the better when my Big Ultra Round Stic Grip (that sounds dirty) makes its way through the words.

With my age and vast maturity (ha), lists have made their way in my brain and in my brain alone. I used to be the type of person that had to write things down otherwise there was no hope of recalling the "needs to be done/bought/called." Granted, I find myself forgetting small things more frequently these days (mainly grocery store items.) But my "to do" lists don't even have to be tangible things anymore. Achieving goals now give me much more reward than they used to. Take, for example, a hiking adventure in Colorado recently to reach the top of this mountain:



I hadn't eaten much that morning. I'm a nerd with asthma. The thin air effected me early in the excursion. But in my head, I told myself I wouldn't stop. I'd make it to the top. (When it comes to physical exertion anymore, I'm basically a wimp. Relatively, anyway. I don't push myself like I used to.) I got dizzy at times and really questioned if I'd stick to my word. But I did. I made it to the top. See?



So what I'm saying is that I've come to appreciate accomplishments a lot more lately. Whether it's finally doing the laundry that's piled up, overflowing the brim, or climbing to the top of a mountain and to get married where there are flutes playing and trombones and flowers and garlands of fresh herbs. And dancing 'til the sun rose. And then our children will form a family band. And we will tour the countryside and you won't be invited.

(Movie quote. Thumbs up to the person that calls it.)