A wise friend, Pauline Salla, and I were discussing the hundreds of items that creep into daily life that all seem urgent but upon close examination may fall into three categories: urgent, important, and toss/reject/forget… Now the first two are understandable and most of my endeavors orbit these arenas. It is sometimes challenging to separate urgent – gotta attend to it immediately – and important – gotta attend to it but a time lapse works. Believe it or not, and if you know me well you already guessed, it is the toss/reject/forget that is the hardest. Why? Because my mind always travels to the “What if…?” even when such a place, time, or thing is non-existent.
Pauline’s advised her personal technique – compartmentalization. I jumped on the idea, recognizing my own natural behavior to divide everything into neat divisions. So, let’s just look at emotions like angst. Angst involves worry and fear, the sense that something is about to happen and it is my responsibility to solve or waylay it. Fortunately, or perhaps not, this container is large, constructed of stretchy material so that as the load gets bigger and tougher to bear I can always squeeze in one more item. Take the next two days, for example. I’ll drive 700+ miles to our cabin to close it for the winter (hauling in chairs, hoses, barbecue grills; covering beds and furniture with tarps and bungies; bagging blankets and pillow; fastening windows, doors, and tarps; cleaning out cupboards and appliances; winterizing our water system by draining, adding antifreeze, opening all valves; organizing the miscellaneous junk that has accumulated in the boathouse, etc,) and when complete, loading the car, dropping by the dump, swinging by 57 Store for cases of huckleberry jam before heading to Spokane to prepare to fly out with my sister Marilyn for a 2-week vacation. This all rests under the title “Closing the Cabin”. Now you get the need for a large compartment – there are many obligations entailed coupled with the deepest hope that when spiring comes a joyous “Opening the Cabin” when everything operates properly due to my closing efforts.
Other life compartments involve tasks like housekeeping, yard work, writing, attending meetings, creating agendas for meetings, and focusing on upcoming events, i.e. the 11th Annual Turkey Trot November 28th, 2024. Housekeeping, as you know, never ends, so it is simply a repetitive duty compartment. Whether I like it or not dusting, mopping running laundry, and so forth just happen on a twice weekly rotation. How three people and a dog generate so much debris is a wonder. The same resounds with the yard. While it changes with the season there’s always something: weeding, planting, mowing, shoveling… You get the drift.
Up to here, my compartments are busy and often full,but they are not overwhelming. However, the tremendous pressure of deadlines, self-imposed or otherwise, add to a mixture of excitement and anxiety and even when I plan for a never-ending expansion of stress, sometimes exhaustion seeps in. It might start little as in when two friends suggested we get together for a couple of days. They chose Elko, a halfway point between their homes in southern Idaho and mine. Originally a Monday-Wednesday affair, I figured while in Elko I would also attend three other meetings, visit my family, appear for Brynley’s volleyball game, and be home in time for book club and respite on Thursday. Then the gathering moved to Tuesday through Thursday meaning a nice visit Tuesday, a cram-jammed Wednesday, and an early exit Thursday to arrive home in time. Ah ha! An inadequate compartment. Cancel or go-for-it? That is the question.
As Pauline and I continued to remark on the value of stuffing things into compartments she admitted that a friend had pointed out how throwing things willy-nilly to fit obligations, perceived or real, is good for neither mental nor physical well-being. Too much of anything – family, food, exercise, friends – lead to over-sized, tired, and depressed compartmentalization. Thus, it’s time to proceed to the all-important toss phase. Give it up, hand it over, retire, quit, forget its potential value, or just let it go (the Frozen song has a point!) That, for me is the hard part because I pretty much love everything and I am afraid that if I relinquish my efforts, the project or meeting or event will disappear. Deep breath – I shudder as I write – so what? It must not have been too valuable if no one else desires to take the reins.