One More Step

Have you ever had one of those days where the stuff you have to do -- the tasks and the chores and the phone calls and the whatnot -- begins looming over you, like a mountain?

Maybe it started out as a hill. But then you get asked to work on a project and someone else needs something right this minute and the thing you shuffled to the back of the list yesterday needs to be at the top of the list today and the phone is ringing and can you approve this and proofread that and look at this for me please and I need you on a conference call five minutes ago and my goodness, but you look tired and before you know it? It's a mountain. It's Everest. And you're not wearing hiking boots, but a very pretty pair of open toed grey suede heels.

And then you want to cry. Maybe just for a second. But you know you can't because that's frowned upon in an office. So is saying you need help. So is telling anyone you're overwhelmed.

So you breathe. In, out, in. You don't cry, though you can feel that burney, back of the eyes and nose feeling that indicates that crying is very near the surface. Breathe some more.

Make a list. Write EVERYTHING down that you need to do. See how much space it takes and realize -- if it can be encapsulated on paper, it's not as big as the universe. It is finite, specific, can be counted.

Choose an item.

Begin.

When you're climbing the mountain, you can't focus on all of the steps to get to the top, because you can't TAKE all of the steps at once. You can focus on ONE step, this step right now. And ... one more. And one more. Until you have reached the peak, all you have is a series of single steps that get you to where you need to go.

Taking a single step isn't so hard.

Especially if you're wearing fabulous shoes.