It’s a deliciously cold, damp, wintry day in Alabama. There is a Winter Weather Advisory and I went to the grocery store this morning so that means that we won’t get anything except rain and a lot of hype. The fire is going; we have nowhere that we have to be until Monday; and this is the weekend that I am going to get through “the pile”.
No. It’s not a pile of laundry or a pile of documents that need to be sorted for our tax return. It is just that pile of papers that I move from room to room. I am always sure that the next spot I light will be the magic one that forces me to deal with all the stuff in the pile. I am not sure where I fall on the psychological spectrum with this but, if I am totally honest, I think I find comfort in my pile.
I like the touch and feel of the papers. Somewhere, there is a clean notepad so that I can make notes about the contents of the pile. Maybe I’ll even write a “to do” list or an outline for a blog post or an idea for an article. There will be things in the pile that need to be recorded on my calendar and there will be pieces of paper that I can now throw away. For those, I will create a smaller, temporary pile on the floor beneath where I am sitting. I will find it somewhat freeing to be able to just toss it to the floor. When I am finished, I will move that pile to the trash and proclaim that I have made progress.
Somehow, there is purpose and potential in my pile. So, I carry it from room to room in the hope of working through it. Or, do I carry it to remind me of the work that I should or would or must do?
