When I find myself overwhelmed with all I face in the day ahead, I tend to stop, and do nothing. Nothing at all. There is too much, I can’t take it all in, so I do nothing.
One step forward…I feed the cats. Another step or two…take a shower, brush my teeth, pull together the day’s clothing. Is everything clean? Yes. Does it still fit? I think so. Check my purse, make sure I have my wallet, my phone and my keys. And my lipstick.

I make a list. Call her, email him. Prepare this, revise that. Look for the paperwork lost long ago…it has to be here somewhere. Make a decision. No matter how long my list may be, it is shorter than the endless loop of duty and worry that goes through my head.
I am a little less overwhelmed.
Pour a bowl of cereal, no, today I need a more substantial breakfast. It will take a little longer, but this morning I have the time. Do I have juice? Yes, thank goodness, just enough for one glass.
Add juice to the grocery list.
I feel a little more in control.

Start to tackle that list while I’m waiting for breakfast. Just one or two things if I can. The email I’ve been putting off so long…but I’m glad I waited, I finally know just what to say. Once I finish that message, I must send another, to someone else, to confirm my intentions.
Maybe today I should stop by that office and get my questions answered. Yes, I could call, but I know how these things work. They will give fuller, more detailed answers to someone standing right in front of them., someone who isn’t asking idly, someone who is a real person, not a disembodied voice, or worse, one more email to sort through. Yes, I should stop by.
Oh, the list is so long! And even without it, I have plenty to do. I could stay home all day and never have an idle moment, but that’s not a luxury I’m allowed.
I eat breakfast, I check my makeup, my hair, I grab my list. I need to return that book, drop off…whatever that is. I gather it all together.
“Later, kitty gators. Be good,” I close the door behind me, push the button on the key and hear the familiar click as the car door is unlocked.
Wait, I forgot, I need my allergy medicine or I will be suffering.
I run in, race out, get behind the wheel. Sitting there, I am so overwhelmed, I can barely move the key to the ignition.
When I find myself overwhelmed with all that I face in the day ahead, I tend to stop, and do nothing. But nothing is not an option, so I start the car.
Move forward, take the next step.
One at a time.
Image Credits: (Bridge) © Gorilla — Fotolia; (Echinacea) © Melpomene — Bigstock

I house-sat last year, and hauled the cats over to this pretty place on the lake, with woods and the brush all around. No way in heaven or earth I was going to let them run free. Not only would they likely get lost, whoever did find them (probably a coyote) would discover them covered in ticks and fleas and whatever other grunge lies out there.
Do they dream of the big hunt? Right now there’s the occasional bug to stalk, but I usually reach my limit watching that game after a time and kill the thing myself. They tend to let it go otherwise. Unless it’s a flying bug. Walter is adept at catching bugs in flight, and has no compunction eating his capture.
Race continues to divide this nation, and the quiet example of Atticus Finch in this Pulitzer-Prize winning novel is worth remembering. I know, the prequel creates a different picture of the man, but there was a reason Harper Lee told us she’d “said all she had to say” with To Kill a Mockingbird. In addition to Atticus, it’s uplifting to remember Boo Radley, and the straightforward point-of-view of young Scout paints an honest and at times innocent picture of the world. Don’t miss the 1962 film, either.
The perfect book if you’re too busy for a novel. Short stories, articles and poetry abound in this volume. Parker took a sardonic look at just about every aspect of life, and it’s intriguing to note the change in her writing (particularly the short stories) over the years. Her tales are as timeless as human nature, however, no matter what changes may have taken place in her style of writing, and capture the subtleties of such things as young love and racism.
Ah, romance, true love and all that. The fairy tale comes crashing down, and you’re left wondering if the bliss of it all can be recaptured. Was Rebecca the better woman, the better lover, the better wife? We agonize with our unnamed heroine as she struggles to gain her foothold in a trepidatious situation and overcome her insecurities as the second wife. Who was Rebecca, and why does she still haunt all whom she left behind? A darn good movie, too (the 1940 Hitchcock version, starring Joan Fontaine and Laurence Olivier).
I hesitated to call this one a classic since it’s not even 30 years old, but it’s on high school reading lists, so there you go. Written with Irving’s customary nod to the outlandish, but a bit of a departure from his usual style, it captures the intense feelings of fate, faith, friendship and the follies of youth and creates a clear visual of both main characters as they grow up and enter the world. Owen Meany believes in destiny, and lives his life with the knowledge he is “God’s instrument” and must fulfill a pre-ordained plan.
These are well-defined characters, and their stories have a rhythm that is almost poetic (consider the title of one tale, “The Piper at the Gates of Dawn”). There’s a reason I still have my childhood copy.



You must be logged in to post a comment.