A Sort-of Plan

I have plans for this year–not resolutions, mind you, just ideas that I’m going to follow out to their natural conclusions or out to the bend in the road where they become something else I didn’t expect. In fact, I’m so ahead of myself, I’ve already found some new ideas and dumped others, and it’s not even February.

I keep thinking I should make a list, something that will help me keep track of what I want to do and all the little picky things that need to be done in order to clear space–physically and mentally. There’s a lot on my mind. But lists are problematic: Where do I put them? How do I structure them? And what if the list-making keeps me from just doing the things I want to do, regardless of the number of thoughts that drift away in the process?

Here’s a sort-of list:

Paint those two rooms (Choose the paint)
Make the curtains (Choose the fabric–see? I’m already off track)
Write–but which one? All of them.
Read (Don’t get me started on that list)
Fix the the light, the leak, the fence

Then there’s this list: scheming, planning, designing, fledging.

The lists (which are not yet lists) have lots of colors to them–it’s a pretty process that is leaking all over my house, evidence by little bits of yarn and markers and postcards on the floor, the windowsill, the counter. Some people have suggested I find someone to help me winnow it all down, but I’m not ready for that. I like this process as it is. Loose. Mostly private. Swirly. Maybe ultimately the goal is just to go through the process.

I’m becoming that person who says yes to everything, then filtering. I’m not fickle (well, maybe I am a bit), I’m just seeing how things might fit together. In the end, even as I take on new things, most of it stays the same because there’s a finite amount of space. I still write a lot, most of it now at 5 or 6am. I always read at night. Changes happen slowly, in tiny increments. I fit the new stuff in by finding pockets of time I ignored before. I still need to make the lists though, or some sort of diagram of what’s going on. Some things require deadlines, while others just need good intentions. And let’s not talk about money or time or other resources. That’s a whole other set of lists.

There’s a giant roll of drawing paper upstairs–that might be just what I need. One hundred yards of blank space unfurling down the stairs.