First Things First

I’ve watched the morning go from dark to light, and in only a half an hour. The crickets and cicadas sound the same–except there’s one cicada now, maybe in the pecan tree, quite loud. There’s a bird, or two? flittering around, going “Twit…twit…twit.” And, again, not a ruffle of a breeze, every leaf as still as death. Each morning seems like another, yet the changes in light, in bugs and birds and air are subtle, relentless, moving forward, and no stopping it. Wasps and stinging critters are less now. The pool is several degrees cooler, and Little Dude would not even get in yesterday. I did! I’m not ready to let it go.

The grass is still growing, as are vines and bushes, and all the things that need doing. On Thursdays thinking of all these things that need doing, inside and out, generally starts to overwhelm me. Figuring out that I do this about every Thursday helped me to realize the feeling will pass and not to stress over it.

Also caused me to remember advice from the writer and teacher Jack Bickham: “Make a list of all you need to do, and then put writing at the top. Make it first.” I’d say that’s the thing to do with whatever you really want to do. Don’t let the world’s relentless demands suck away those things we really want to do.

I’m off to do just that– and I guess I already put writing first! šŸ™‚

4 thoughts on “First Things First

  1. When I was a kid, I thought August was high summer, mostly because of humidity and vacation from school. and certainly the we don’t see the nights outstrip the days until September. But even on warm days there is often a bite in the air after sundown, once August goes into double digits. It’s 80 degrees and sunny but summer feels like it is over. So many things are still undone–I haven’t yet worked on the side garden. But now I’m going to think about it as preparing for next spring. I did what I could, as well as I could, and then I let go.

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    • So many things still undone– that seems to be a tape repeating in my brain. šŸ™‚ But maybe those things just weren’t meant to be done. Yes, let it go. And then I look up and see the new growth stems sticking up on the lorapetalum. Oh, well…

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  2. Well put!
    We must plan and do the most important things first.
    Think of them as a crying baby – you always tend to a crying baby.
    Your writing or art or whatever it is you love deserves the same fine attention.

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    • A crying baby. Oh, my goodness, what a great thought! I will do that– thinking of my writing as a crying baby. Of course I will tend to it first then. Thank you!

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