Sharon Short                  Author

I’m notorious in my family for making lists.

And not just the usual grocery lists and to-do lists. Those are for rookie list-makers. I’m a list-making pro, having created lists of:

1.  Things-to-do-last-week-of-summer-vacation;

2.  What to pack, categorized by clothes/toiletries/amusements;

3.  Books to read;

4.  Movies to watch;

5.  Favorite restaurants in our region, for personal reference and giving recommendations to visitors, categorized by cuisine;

6.  Business project plans, categorized into phases;

7.  Gardening projects, categorized into seasons.

Obviously, I just can’t resist lists… except… the other day, I did.

My family members and I decided to go to the local Boy Scout tent sale. Somehow, I ran out of time before going and never got around to making a list labeled: “Things It Would Be Cool To Find At The Boy Scout Tent Sale.”

As I was wandered up and down aisles, looking over table after table of items, I felt a little shaky without a list, rather like:

1.  A tight-rope walker without a net;

2.  A speech-giver without notes;

3.  A rafter without a life vest.

But after awhile, I started to relax. I made a quick mental list of the worst that could happen by shopping a tent sale without a list:

1.  I might buy stuff I later regretted.

2.  I might be so overwhelmed by just looking at everything that I missed something I would have put on my “Things It Would Be Cool To Find At The Boy Scout Tent Sale.”

And I realized that neither possibility was all that awful. If I spent a few bucks on something I’d later realize I wouldn’t really use, I could always give it to someone who would use it or donate it. If I missed something nifty… well, there's always next year’s tent sale.

Realizing that, I got into the spirit of just… looking. Silly as it might sound, I felt a little thrill of adventure and excitement, liberated from my list. In the end, I purchased:

1.  A Campbell ’s soup mug for my daughter, because she loves tomato soup and thought it would be neat to have her soup in said mug;

2.  A dog treat jar for Cosmo;

3.  A holiday wreath holder, because once I saw it, I remembered ours broke last season.

I’m pretty sure that none of the above would have been on my “Things It Would Be Cool To Find At The Boy Scout Tent Sale” list.

So, two dollars and forty-five minutes later, was I ready to give up lists entirely? Of course not. Lists will always be part of how I organize my life because:

1.  That’s just part of my personality.

2.  I started my writing life as a technical writer, and at least half of the team meetings I attended were about how to format lists, and why, and under what circumstances. Which is partly why I moved on to other types of writing, but nevertheless, it obviously left an indelible impression.

Still, my list-less experience (which was not at all listless, but liberating and invigorating) taught me a few things:

1.  Lists are good for lots of things.

2.  But not everything. Sometimes, you just have to:

a.  Be spontaneous;

b.  Go with the flow;

c.  Take life as it comes.

In fact, I’m adding items 2a through 2c to my “personal goals” list.