Doing the Next Thing
Motivation for the scatterbrained
I’m just back from a mile walk around my neighborhood. It was nice to see the local park full of activity, with football, skateboarding, and the city pool open.
I’ve been trying to walk every evening after dinner, no excuses. Except weather. For autumn I will have to join the local gym, so I can walk indoors in the winter. I have not had a gym membership in around a quarter century, and frankly I am a bit nervous. Things may have slipped in the fitness department since then. My hope is that I am so addicted to my evening walk by then, that will propel me past any inhibitions, such as wearing workout clothes in public.
A little while ago I considered turning on the TV and seeing what was what. Then I reminded myself that I should walk. That is the next thing I must do. And it worked, so much so that when I arrived back home, instead of plopping down on the sofa with the Apple TV remote in hand, I am on the patio, writing this.
When my boys were younger, one of their many uncles gave them a DVD of an animated movie called Robots. Robin Williams, God rest his soul, gave one of his classic over-the-top performances as the show-stealing sidekick Fender. But it was the character Bigweld, voiced by Mel Brooks, who uttered a line which stuck with me.
“See a need, fill a need.”
It sums up the Golden Rule and Christian charity nicely, doesn’t it? Not bad, Hollywood, not bad. It is sort of the inspiration for my new — not mantra — let’s call it a catchphrase.
Do the next thing.
When I get overwhelmed, I have to remind myself I can’t do everything. Do the next thing. Face it, do it, then repeat.
I’m a huge fan of planning. I am a planner. I am less adept at implementing said plans. I think it is fear of failure, or sloth, or a combination. I have a history of self-sabotage when it comes to important things. Like being afraid to try to succeed, because I don’t want to face failure if I don’t. All this to say, I am a fan of time blocking, but bad at following through. Do the next thing. What am I supposed to be doing? Do it.
I’ve also tried a variation of this with eating low-carb. Instead of ranging around the kitchen for something to eat, I ask myself, first, am I supposed to be eating? Do I need to eat? If so, what am I supposed to eat to keep my blood sugar in an acceptable, below pre-diabetic, range? Then I eat that. It would be nice if I could eliminate all temptation from the cupboards, but I share the house with two people whose family genes mean they can eat anything at any time of day.
I am trying to be more present, more aware of what I can do, and holding myself accountable for my choices. And when I fail, which I do, I reset it all by doing the next thing.