Okay, this one is going to come out like word vomit. Mainly because it has been rattling around in my brain for the past few days.
In line with the current theme of our worldwide pandemic, do you also perhaps suffer from the "I'll"ness?
I did not fully realize that I do until this worldwide slow-down happened, but I am ill. And I made myself ill.
Here's how I did it:
"I'll do that."
"I'll take care of it."
"I'll give them a call."
"I'll reply to those emails, then I'll go to the grocery store, then I'll pick up the dry cleaning, and then I'll start that book before bed."
Sound familiar?
If so, congratulations. You have the "I'll"ness too.
You've also come to the right place and have found a new comrade. Welcome to the club.
Ironic, isn't it? The clue to our own self-destruction is hidden in the word itself.
So on a more serious note, why on earth do we do this to ourselves? It is as though we believe we possess superhuman powers and can do everything solo.
Well, we don't. Plus, we can't. And I'm very sorry to be the one to tell you here first if you are newly diagnosed with the "I'll"ness.
What I will also tell you is that within the long-winded example thread above, I maybe accomplish one of those four tasks on my "I'll"ness list a day. If I'm having a good day, it's two. If I'm over-caffeinated, I've done the list twice just to make sure nothing was missed.
However, I am just now realizing (finally) that part of the "I'll"ness involves failing to give myself credit for the task I did accomplish while laser-focusing on the ones that weren't checked off the list instead.
This is the mindset that makes us ill. It is how we swerve into the fast-lane of feeling like we never do enough, that we are failures, and that these are the reasons why we will never reach our long-term goals, hopes, and dreams.
To be honest, I woke up with quite the "I'll"ness list this morning. I really enjoy starting my day with a jolt of sheer and utter panic at all of the things I need to get done — don't you?
Thankfully, this extra time spent alone with my vinyl record of repetitive thoughts has made me realize how unnecessary most of my regularly scheduled programming is. How now, the obligations on my calendar (surprise, surprise) fail to excite me since I have gotten some time to tap into who I am, rather than what I do.
Of course, work is necessary, as are encounters with friends and familial obligations. Sometimes, it certainly does fall on our shoulders and we are the only one who can give the presentation or sign off on the document. But I'm asking you to dive a bit deeper than that.
Are you perhaps in need of some "We'll"ness in order to begin curing your own "I'll"ness?
