Yesterday, when I returned home after running a couple errands, I had a few tasks left on my to-do list. The familiar thought that crossed my mind was, “I’ll start them after I sit for a few minutes.” And then I thought, “What if I didn’t sit?” Sweetie wasn’t due home for a couple hours and there were many things I could do around the house beyond the basic to-do. What could I accomplish if I refused to sit?

A lot, it turned out. After knocking out the to-do list, I started tidying the office. It had become super cluttered over the past month. The built-in cabinet was a mess. The chair I used to like sitting in for journal entries was piled high with supplies I couldn’t put away because the cabinet wouldn’t hold anything else. Papers covered my desk. I kept at it until the only thing that still wants attention is a rolling cart that has an assortment of odds and ends. I’d have put them away, too, but Sweetie came home earlier than I expected and off we went for dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant.

I have developed a habit of doing a small thing and then rewarding myself by sitting “for a few minutes.” I have a hard time doing nothing, so I pick up a book, become absorbed, and a few minutes turns into thirty or more. I’ll set a new goal for when I’ll get up. It’s easier to keep reading and more fun, too. The cycle repeats and time slips away. I’ve read a lot, but necessary tasks pile up. The sheer volume of stuff to do intimidates me and… well, it’s so overwhelming that I have to sit down.

I don’t need to rest after fifteen minutes of light activity. Or even two hours. I’m even standing up as I type this post. I’ve put a sticky note on the cover of my Kindle, my laptop, and at the top of my computer screen: “What if I didn’t sit?” I bet I’ll get more done.