Tao to done

Yesterday I downloaded a little e-book called Zen to Done by Leo Babauta. I've been following Leo's blog Zen Habits for at least a year now and I find his philosophy and advice incredibly helpful.

I've decided to adapt his system for regaining power to my own life, let's call it Tao to done.

The idea in ZTD is that you spend about a month on one of habits. The first of these is collect. Work first on establishing a good method for listing the tasks that need to be done. Carry a little notebook and then at the end of the day dump these tasks on to the to do list.

When I started this yesterday I first thought, wow I don't see how I could need to work a whole month on this habit. I mean it's just writing down stuff that needs to be done. Shouldn't I be able to do that all in one week?

But on my second day, I'm realizing all the ways that not having methods for keeping myself on track are affecting my life. And the idea of collection has expanded beyond just the list of things to do.

My body is my most important collector. Yes, it's good to have a notebook to jot down tasks and ideas. But the fundamental collector of my tasks is my body. If it's constantly battling stress, painful body memories, extra weight, poor posture, poor energy, it's inevitable that all other methods of collection will get derailed.

When I stand in the morning, I'm doing the most fundamental thing I can do, scanning my body for emotional and physical pain, being with it and releasing it. It's like starting the day with a blank page on which I can start to write a more productive algorithm.

This leads into a concern with other collectors: like is my body well supported when I write? How does my poor posture affect how long I can concentrate on a writing task.

Just now I noticed how my neck strains to read the computer because it's too low. And the space around it it too messsy and cluttered. These are collectors too.

It is good to spend a month on collection. It's like anotherer manifestation of awareness. Any habit that increases awareness is always transformative.

From adventure to journey

When you're lost, life is always an adventure.

For most of my life I've been lost in a growth forest of painful, stressful memories. Veering around in part because I was raised in emotional chaos, and maybe because of a neurological bias towards poor co-ordination.

Adventures are great. But more and more I want to turn this into a journey. Find something of an endpoint, a home, where I can gather strength and power and resources.

I now have a lifetime habit of early morning standing. Sometimes I don't stand as long, or with as much dedication as I would wish. But I know that I don't and will never feel right anymore if I abandon this practice.

The time has come to take the power I gather from this practice and use it to get the things I need out of life: a more steady supply of income, a more focussed sense of what my contribution to society will be. And a more entrenched, internalized locus of power.

Believing in my ability to shape my life has to be the central habit in my life. The habit I feed, so that this nagging feeling of being lost and out of control gradually begins to dry up.