When Did Life Start Becoming a Long To-Do List?

This thought came to me when I was sitting on my living room couch with my husband while watching the Netflix series “Narcos” after a long work day. As we were watching the events unfold into an epic climax where Pablo Escobar was escaping Columbian government capture (yet again), I suddenly sat up straight and immediately pulled out my laptop. Screen brighter than the sun and temporarily blinding us in our dimmed out living room, my husband turned to me and asked, “What’re you doing?” 

I looked at him matter-of-factly and said, “I have to check if a breast pump is covered by my insurance.” 

Some context: I’m currently 5 months pregnant. 

He responded back with, “Why don’t we research over the weekend and relax right now?”

“I’ll just do it now,” I replied back quickly.

At the time, it sounded so silly to me to just wait until the weekend. Why? Because this has been on my to-do list for weeks now and I already had my laptop pulled out.

And in the same moment, a flurry of other items on my to-do list swirled in my brain. I had to apply for paid maternity leave (since I'm self-employed/work as a freelancer/contractor). We had to start moving furniture into storage so there’s room for a crib, a nursing chair, etc. I have to wash the bed sheets, the dishes, Benji’s bed (our beloved Beagle pup). I have to complete my lily pad painting, another miniature painting card, finish my book and this blog post I’m currently writing. It went on and on. 

Jeff calmly took the laptop out of my hands, set it on the coffee table, and made me nestle back into the cushions.

He was adamant.

It could be the fact that I should be resting as someone in her second trimester. Or it could be the fact we were peacefully watching a television show together and the climax of the episode just came (and went). 

As I sat there watching the men planning their next move in capturing the drug kingpin, I wondered to myself, “When did life become such a long to-do list? A constant agenda?” 

I don’t know when the transition happened. The one from carefree child to responsible working adult. Add soon to be mom in there and I’ve pretty much ticked all the boxes on how the stereotypical life rolls on. 

There are moments where it feels like I’m barely holding onto the fringes of my life, and I either watch still-frames pass me by or I’m not entirely present all together. And what does being present even mean anymore in this day and age when you're just trying to survive paycheck to check? (And by this day and age, I’m referring to late-stage capitalism, ha — that’ll be a blog post for another day since it's an entirely different topic.)

In general, life feels like one constant blurring motion and I can slightly make out key moments. I could say maybe when I turned 30 is when I started to lose track of my days. But even when I think back to my college years, nothing clear comes to my mind.

Not to mention that I also can't seem to fully rest without a lingering thought of guilt in the back of my mind. That definitely started happening once I hit my late 20's-30's. Any time that is not converted into energy, I thought of it as a waste of potential, a waste of a day, a waste of me. 

But when I lie in bed at night and find myself unable to sleep, it's memories from my childhood that swim to the surface. I can't picture exact sequences, but I can distinctly remember my senses: how I felt being praised by my mom on a drawing I did, whether it was a summer day or a winter night from the temperature in the house, how I could smell the authentic Vietnamese cuisine wafting through our front door while I played with the neighborhood kids, when I dusted the chalk off my knees because I remember small pebbles of asphalt embedded in my palm or hearing constant ringing laughter in the living room of our communal home. Childhood really felt so long, so endless. Time was not a concept to me at that age. 

Those are the days I remember so vividly and are entrenched in the folds of my heart. Resting wasn't something to feel guilty about... It was a shared activity with my family. 

So how can I find some semblance of... Balance? Normalcy? Guilt-free rest? And how the hell do I stop making life such an endless to-do list and just... be? 

Here's my unsolicited opinion: the to-do lists won't ever stop. In fact, I'm convinced they'll only get worse. 

But I supposed it's just how you view them. Accomplishments? Chores? Something to fill your day? Or simply, they're just tasks—minute or monumental as much as you want it to be. Sometimes, these to-do items don't have to mean much (or they make up the very fabric of your life). 

I can't deny that they're completely exhausting and daunting, especially when there's no end in sight. But maybe I need to take notes from my childhood. Use my senses again to help me feel present. To stop making life such a to-do list. 

Such as: 

• Journal, but in the sunshine so you can feel the rays on your skin and hear the sparrows sing their chorus.
  
  
• Hug your best friend tight—so tight, that you can almost feel the smile creeping onto her face and the laughter bubbling up from her chest.
  
  
• Make coffee and smell deeply so you taste the notes of cherry, chocolate, and cinnamon in your cup.

We don't lose these senses of remembrance as we age. They're just dulled by the duties that life brings. And when you look back, you realize you made key moments again. The frozen captures in the blurring motion of life. 

Honestly, all of this could be a temporary band-aid or a complete lie I'm telling myself (it most likely is) to make myself feel better. Avoidant/anxious attachment is my style, ha. But it's all about our perspective, isn't it? There's a lot to be grateful for in this life—least of all the chance of even having a to do list.

So yes, as mentioned prior, these to-do lists don't seem to end, won't seem to end. But... If I can tick off smelling the notes of coffee, listening to the rain pitter patter on the window, or hug my husband and feel his body temperature against mine... Then, I guess I'm glad the to-do list doesn't end. 

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