I wish I had the exact quote from my friend about errands. How we got to talking about my list of hidden "to-do's" escapes me. Nonetheless, they rose to the surface of our conversation. Oh, right, they came from a discussion about purchasing art. I asked for advice about buying a photograph I found that I like.
I've never purchased art before. I don't know if you can negotiate the price or not. My purchase will be a Christmas gift to me. What that means, however, is that my $500 will not be spending cash but a 30 inches by 30 inches black and white, sepia toned old fashioned type writer with a piece of paper and the words, "The End."
The image of the typewriter caught my attention. The words, "The End," melted my heart. I decided instantly, some may say impulsively, to buy it. I haven't bought it, yet, though and have the opportunity to ask advice on the price and if I should go through with it.
In discussing this with my grounded, efficient and practical friend, he suggested I look at more art, photography in particular, if that's my interest. "There are sites online and it's fun!" he said cheerily only to be met with the look of despair on my face. Internally, I knew that I couldn't or wouldn't ever purchase art that way. It has a heaviness to it.
"I'm not a researcher," I replied. He wasn't understanding me at all. In fact, I could see frustration building at the wall that went up in front of him when I was the one asking for advice, guidance, suggestions. I just couldn't see me "getting around to it." I could see me burning out by the labor of exploring all that's out there in the world of art.
There is so much logic behind his enthusiasm and halting me from buying a piece for close to $500 when I don't know what all else I could be buying that I may like better.
This led to the discussion of errands. What else is there on my list that seems overwhelming? I brought up my need to go to the dry cleaners. I also have items to take to Goodwill. Oh, and there's that old year 2000 Dell desktop that needs a good blowing out and recycling or donating. I need to sort papers that are littering my coffee table and desk. I have shelves that need to be assembled and books stacked. (I didn't mention this one to him).
I brought up wanting to have a singing lesson that I've never had. I've had that on the list for years. "My writing partner teaches singing lessons!" he exclaimed as if saying, "See, it isn't so hard." Then he got to work trying to understand what was behind my resistance.
His response was that the word "errand" was incomplete.
We started by making a list of all the items, slash errands I have not gotten to. With each one we broke them down into smaller chunks, if necessary. All right then. I told him that for the number 1, which was having my computer cleaned out, that I'd gone so far to put in my car for days and drive it to work...that's where I will be able to clean it. Now, it's sitting in the garage collecting more dust.
He said that he has a client who would love my old computer. Okay. He gave me the guys name. He thought that would help me. Sure. It does help to know that this is for somebody. That is is for a purpose other than simply getting rid of something old.
Then we talked about the other items on my list, such as finding a tailor. He had given me the name of the tailor weeks before. I believe my response was, "I'll probably get to that in 8 to 10 years." The sad part is the convenience of the name of the tailor he gave me. She will come to me!
So then he began to ask me questions about why I had these errands on my list to begin with.
What do I value? These reflect what I value. What is this bringing up for me?
Copyright by Rachel Drews, 2011. All rights reserved. Any excerpts reproduced from this article should include links to the original.
