endless to-do lists … and pauses

I’m reading a book about vampires—Time’s Convert by Deborah Harkness—and am struck by this passage:

“Phoebe had studied how Ysabeau seemed to fully extend herself into every task. Nothing was done quickly or for the sake of getting through and checking it off one’s endless to-do list. Instead there was a reverence to Ysabeau’s every move—how she sniffed the blossoms in her garden, the feline stealth of her steps, the slow pause when she reached the end of a chapter in her book before she went on to the next. Ysabeau did not feel that time would run out before she had sucked the essence from whatever experience she was having. For Phoebe, there never seemed to be enough time to breathe, dashing from the market to work to the chemist’s for cold medicine to the cobbler to have her heels fixed, and back to work.”

I’m such a perpetual Phoebe, but I want to be an Ysabeau.

I want to slow down and do one thing at a time. To not have the anxiety that I need to get through things, even enjoyable things.

Problem is, I can even be a Phoebe while trying to be an Ysabeau on a summer weekend. I make lists of fun things to chill out with and cross them off.

Listen to hilarious, snarky audiobook.

Read Wabi-Sabi inspiration book.

Write sexy fun stuff.

Bake an apple pie from the apples down the street.

Clean out a drawer and make it super pretty. (I love that kind of Marie Kondo tidying.)

Swim.

Walk outside past the elderberries now fruiting.

Write a blog post.

Read Magnolia magazine.

Wear fun shoes.

Re-watch Peaky Blinders.

Knit.

And so on.

I often find myself trying to do two at once. Listen to audiobook while baking. Read kindle while knitting. And writing it all down.

It’s like if I don’t write it down, it didn’t happen.

But I remind myself for the thirteen millionth time that in this present moment, as I type these words with silly and impractical long, fake, black nails, everything is exactly as it’s supposed to be.

I don’t exist for crossing things off lists.

I exist for now.

I want to pause between chapters. To slow down and not be anxious about whether I can finish the books on my list, the creative projects, the delicious dinners.

To suck the essence out of the moment.