Something there is about "being behind" that is part of the human condition in modern times. It is a terrible way to live, because such a sensibility robs me of the abundance of Now, and divides my attention so that my energy is diverted and blunted. I suppose this comes from the obsession of list-making for the sake of being organized and efficient. These lists live in our heads and guide us through our tasks, each path focused on clear destinations.
So I find myself running through this gauntlet of lists, of dividing the lists into personal lists and work lists, and gauging my success as to how many tasks I have crossed off, but always adding more in the process. And when I am idle, I find myself creating lists... just for the sake of lists. Lists are linear, and at heart, I am not really a linear person.
I am a broad spectrum person, a person who functions best when on the edge of chaos, and I delight in seeing the debris of order crumble at the edges like the huge sheets of ice at the polar caps that sheer off from the mainland and disappear into the global-warmed ocean. Yet, if I exist in the aleatoric, non-ordered world, I know it is an illusion. Isn't chaos merely the mirrored reflection of order? Chaos IS Order.
Without the linear lists, what paths would I take through the murky haze of the not-knowing Now? Yet, I discover more moving through the fragments and madness of my personal blackholes that stand between me my singularity. Once thought of as the ultimate destructive force in the universe, blackholes have been discovered to be the source for the creation of all galaxies. So I am delightfully adrift in the disarray of my own new galaxies now ready to burst into being.