Having arrived at the realization (again) that I am simply never going to finish ALL THE THINGS, I realize it’s impossible—time cannot be stopped. There is only a chipping away at imperatives, like a block of marble out of which no soaring, winged delight will emerge— only a fleeting and illusory sense of accomplishment. (A small one just now at having finally opened and sorted ALL THE MAIL, a minor mountain, growing for weeks.)
Procrastination, distraction, and other forces impede workflow, where mere springtime could have done same on its own. Increased heart rate— half days and bike rides, a seasonal urge to say yes to everything; these combined with and versus an increasing number of projects and deadlines. There is such a thing as biting off more than one can chew.
But this is not a season of can’t. I think it just requires another cup of coffee.