Only to the Next Tree
I’ve been paralyzed into inaction lately by the enormity of the projects I’ve undertaken. Overwhelmed!
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De-clutter the closets; learn how to maintain a website; create the content for said website. write a cookbook, learn how to take better photos, raise money for brain cancer research, and maybe even cook dinner. Each one of these projects is time consuming and detail oriented; each will need planning, creativity and focus.
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At first I was excited about these projects, then the paralysis hit me. So after feeling sorry for myself for a few days, then not being able to decide which one and where to start for a few more days, then procrastinating for more than a few more days, I remembered something from my childhood. Apple picking with my cousin Jack. Now you might think what does apple picking have to do with de-cluttering the closet. Be patient my dears. There was a reason for a lesson to be learned way back then – to help me in situations like this now.
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When I was a child, in the summers we went to the village where the streets, not only in song, but literally had no name.
One of the highlights of the summer for me was apple picking. It was a well planned and organized event. The timing had to be coordinated with relatives and neighbors so they could help each other. Everyone went. All the ladders available were taken and all capable hands put to work. There was lots of playful banter and singing from the top of the trees. Young people fell in love in those orchards and the uncles made fun of them, singing “I lost my heart under the apple tree”. The older ladies were responsible for the food and all kinds of delicacies were spread out for lunch. We ate and then took a siesta in the shade of the trees before we continued to pick those apples ever so carefully, not to leave fingerprints on them, and arrange them gently in wooden crates.
The crates were loaded on small trucks that went around to all the apple pickers that day and helped carry their harvest to huge refrigerator trucks waiting up the dirt road. Some of the men would get impatient and start carrying the crates themselves, maybe to show off their strong muscles to the ladies.
On one such day, I decided I was strong enough to help with the crates, but mostly I wanted to follow cousin Jack around; at 15, he was 4 years older than me and way too cool. So I lifted a crate, thought it was light enough, I could do this, and followed the men. At first, I showed determination and courage, but after several minutes, that narrow dirt path got longer and longer. Angry red marks burned on my arms, my knees wobbled and some moisture appeared in my eyes. Cousin Jack turned around and looked at me dragging behind and waited. When I got to him, he suggested I wait right there, he would sprint to the truck, drop his crate off and come back for mine. But I was too embarrassed, the men would laugh at me on their way back and that’s when he said:
See that next tree ahead of us? We’ll just walk to that tree.
Don’t look at the truck, only at that next tree. So we walked together and when we reached that tree, Jack and I walked to the next one, and just like that, one tree at a time, we conquered that dirt path. I loved my cousin Jack.
I never forgot that. Many times over the years, a voice in my head whispered, only to the next tree, darling. I told the story to my growing sons enough times that they would say, yes mom, we know, only to the next tree. Funny thing is I saw cousin Jack at a wedding a few months ago and he had no recollection of it. He thanked me for the story though and said it will come in handy for him too on days he struggles with the dirt paths in this life.
So the other day, as soon as I heard that whisper again, “Only to the next tree”, I was fine, my paralysis lifted. I knew I was going to de-clutter the closets 10 minutes at a time, even one clothing item at a time. Only to the next hanger. I would be able to learn website management one tree…er.. task at a time, and I would be able to write this content one paragraph, even one sentence at a time.
Dr. Martha Beck calls this concept Turtle Steps. One little turtle step at a time.
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.Are you overwhelmed by a task? Don’t know where to start?
.Here’s a simple trick:
- Identify the task.
- Divide it up into trees, turtle steps, small chunks.
- Then walk to the next tree. It’s too much? Walk halfway to the next tree. Take 5 steps to the next tree. Alright, one step!
- Just start. You don’t have to finish it today.
- Plan to spend half an hour on it, maybe even just 5 minutes. You might surprise yourself and finish it sooner than you thought. One tree at a time.
Let me know how it goes.
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