Beyond the list, is list-ening. I have been constructing detailed lists of all of the things to do now as I jump back into the saddle after travels. But I find I’m in that dream where you try hard to move a muscle and you can’t, do you know that dream? I want to start on those lists but instead my body is arrested, it’s making me listen to it instead. The grass needs cutting, big time, the weather has been perfect for it, but my body says STOP. Stop. Stop. Lists stare dully at me while I’m listening to something else. It’s good.