It's Not How You Finish, It's How You Start

Let me begin this entry with a confession: My house is a mess. 

This is not even the messiest room. The sink is full of dirty dishes because I haven't emptied the dishwasher. The toilets need scrubbing. There is definitely toothpaste in all the sinks. There is dust and cat hair on every flat surface. Housecleaning has simply not been my priority of late. 

My priority of late has been getting out of bed. Taking a shower. Brushing my teeth. Making sure my kids have what they need for school. Feeding everyone. Running an occasional load of laundry. Keeping up with the bills. The most basic of basics: Sleep, food, hygiene, shelter. To say that I am struggling to find motivation is a huge understatement. It's hard to get started with anything, because every task feels so overwhelming. And if I can't finish it, why start it?

Because it will eventually need to be finished, that's why. Because starting something is exactly that: a start. The laundry piles and dust kitties won't get smaller, the grass won't get shorter, the paperwork won't get easier, the bathrooms won't get cleaner. Starting those tasks doesn't mean they'll go away, but it will keep them manageable for those moments when I do have the energy and the motivation to work on them. 

And the funny thing about getting started, especially when you're struggling with grief or depression, is that it makes it easier to keep going. Since it was comfortably cool this morning, I decided I would tackle mowing the back yard after the kids went to school, before I took a shower. I told myself that if I ran out of steam, I could skip the far side of the yard that isn't really visible, which made it easier to make myself start. And guess what? Not only did I finish the whole back yard, I mowed half of the front yard as well. 

And since that looked so good, I emptied the dishwasher and filled it up again. It was so nice to have a semi-clean sink that I kept going and hand-washed the oversized pot lid that doesn't fit in the dishwasher and scrubbed the cookie sheet that had been soaking for a day or two. The kitchen is still kind of a mess: the stovetop needs scrubbing, the crumb catcher of the toaster needs to be emptied, there are a few pantry items on the table that have yet to find their way into the pantry. I won't be finishing this task today. 

But I started. 

Momentum is a beautiful thing. And emotional momentum is an even more beautiful thing. Both grief and depression tend to feed off themselves, creating an emotional downward spiral that's difficult to break out of. But if you just start, sometimes that momentum will move you out of that spiral. Doing just part of what needs to be done can inspire you to keep going. And if you don't keep going? So what? You still did something. Now there's less to do. You took a step in the right direction. 

Looking at my "to do" list, I don't know how I'll ever finish it. But at least I can start.