Listed Longings

Unveiling the Unknown Universe Within a List

Every list tells a story. 

A list is like a tiny piece of the list-makers' universe. And today the ground gifted me a peek into an unknown universe. Some snapshot of a stranger’s soul. Their desires, intentions, and their undeniable hunger to nourish a connection.

But I almost missed it. Luckily, as it lay flat on the cement, I did a double-take and caught a glimpse of the handwriting. The word “Ideas” caught my eye.

I felt connected and curious. I’ve written and typed the word “Ideas” at the top of endless lists. Ideas for projects and writing. Sometimes written in a journal, scrawled on a sticky note, or yellow legal pad. Other times on a whiteboard or tapped with my thumbs into my Notes app. I wrote an “Ideas” list this morning, along with many other lists. I’m sure tomorrow I’ll do the same. 

And I think there’s something profoundly intimate about lists. Even simple to-dos. This particular list is especially intimate. But it’s different from a list of ideas for writing or projects dreamed up. This is more than a daily to-do list, though, those too are windows to a universe.

In this one, written on a blank sheet in blue ink, that appears torn from a sketchbook, sandwiched between the layers of the mundane, like, “go gym together” and “go watch a movie,” there are spoken and unspoken desires.

That’s the beauty of lists. They’re tangible ways to express, prioritize, organize, work through, scheme, and dream. Reading this mysterious list-maker’s words, I can see vulnerability at its core. Beyond what’s written there’s immense intention. This is about forging a deeper connection. Unmasking feelings. A desire to let down their walls. Between the trivial points, there’s a yearning to be better, to do better, to change, and grow.

Reading it made me wonder. Are these ideas to salvage and repair some connection? A connection on its last legs? Or is this a close bond soon to become closer? Is this a teenager? Some college student? I can only ask questions and make assumptions.

I assume this person, whatever their age and situation, is committed to being a better version of themself. It intrigued me to see them go from, “come watch me play vball” to “I will work on my desire for comfort/control like driving” and “I will be nicer & more attentive & emotionally open.” What a leap.

I’ve written some version of that kind of thing in self-improvement-type lists. Bulleted all the things to work on and change. The ways I wanted to be better to the people in my life. A better daughter, sister, granddaughter, cousin, friend, etc. Lists of ways to stop falling short. So when I read this list, I can see there’s tension, longing, and that they’re communicating deep care.

But there’s an order and disorder within lists. The interplay between something planned and intended versus spontaneity and what real life brings. In this way, they’re both a reflection and aspiration. This list-maker is in the present, but reaching towards a better more fulfilling future.

And so, I hope they’ll go on that road trip. I hope they’ll be nicer. I hope they’ll learn to be emotionally more open. Lists can’t capture the unexpected. What may or may not happen. But it’s nice to write lists anyway. They’re helpful. Clarifying. Perhaps, necessary even.

Because everything on that list, and any list, represents a smidge of the process of becoming. They’re mirrors of our evolution, marking our different aspirations and desires at different points in time.

The language of a list is not one of prose but of raw wants, dreams, hopes, and intentions. Poetry. The unveiling of our universe.

Today, that’s worth celebrating, I think.

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Hi friend. Thank you for reading Listed Longings.

If anything resonated with you, I’d love to hear what’s on your mind.