Here We Go Again! Life is so weird

One way I organize my messy life is by buying notebooks. School supplies make me happy, and smarter, and on top of things. I like notebooks. I have gone tech on everything else but need a good to do list to scratch through. My new system is to make a list of EVERYTHING in one notebook and then make a list of the next 4-5 things that are pressing on a notepad.

To begin my new system that is going to make everything better I reached for a new notebook on the very large stack of previously purchased to save my life notebooks only to find the funniest thing- my to do and goal list from 1996. It was like a 22 year old time capsule. My handwriting, my life…super weird.

Want to know what was on the list from 22 years ago? The same damned things that are on my list today. 55 looks the same as 33 did.

I was worried that my house was a mess and I had debt I was trying to pay off and I had put on a few pounds and hadn’t gotten to the gym enough and that I wanted to be in a good relationship. I was worried about making more money. (I make 3x the amount I had listed for that year.) I was worried about my kid’s struggles in school and with mental health. (Different kid- this one didn’t exist in 1996 but boy does he feel familiar.)

Yeah… same song, different verse.

The good news? Life has nothing to do with our to do lists. Growth doesn’t show up in money or weight or clean houses or happy kids or the right relationship.

For 22 years I did laundry and made dinner and went shopping and did the dishes. I made money and spent it. I put on weight, took off weight, exercised and forgot to exercise. Since I wrote that list, I have fallen in love and gotten my heart broken, I have made amazing new friends and lost some amazing old ones, people that I have loved have died and people I could never imagine loving have been born.

I am exactly the same person I was 22 years ago and I am a nothing at all the same. I have grey hair and wrinkles and a thicker waistline and two more babies and a million more stories. I have failed miserably and succeeded wildly. I have been sick and gotten better. I have given up hope and found it again.

So what’s the point? In 22 more years I will be 77 and maybe my house is clean and my bills are paid and my kids are healthy and I have an amazing love life. I know that I will have a to do list and dirty laundry. I know that I will have lived a grand adventure with so many stories to tell. What we do every day has so little to do with the life we are living.