Yesterday I wrote about that delicious feeling of accomplishment provided by mowing the meadow, the same feeling I get when I check a big project off my to-do list. I'm reminded, though, that the activities I value the most are never really done. I'll never be done reading as long as books keep being published and I'll never be done teaching as long as ignorance remains a renewable resource, and when it comes to enjoying my family, there's really no imaginable end-point.
The ubiquity of unfinished business became clear to me earlier this week. I was trying to think of a way to commemorate the fact that I've survived two years since my cancer diagnosis, and I asked my husband what I ought to do.
"Keep surviving," he said.
Now there's a plan!
Another plan is to write poetry celebrating unfinished business:
Write a line (insert paren-
theses); delete, revise,
replace, rewrite
a line (delete paren-
theses); add comma,--
no! a dash (insert paren-
theses); replace a verb,
a noun, (delete paren-
theses); full stop? (insert
parentheses).
Now it's your turn: if you can't put a fork in it and call it done, then turn it into poetry.
The coal mine, the cow byre, the field of fire in Afghanistan, could become hostile work environments. Protect yourself, your fellow employees, your employer; take the S.H.A.T. today.
ReplyDeleteD.
(Sexual Harassment Awareness Training)