The right next thing
Lynley Jones
When you’re a start-up business owner, you wake up each morning with a list of about 150 things to do. So many things that need your attention, or need you to make a decision, or are not up to snuff. So many great ideas. So much opportunity. So many risks. So many reasons to move fast.
You work hard all day every single day, from morning till night. You cut out every extra thing, eliminate all extra demands on your time. You don’t spend time watching TV, or socializing. Not enough time exercising or showering. Hopefully a little time to eat something.
On a good day, with your very best efforts, you can knock about 3 solid things off the list. And in the meantime, about 75 new things have been added.
As my business inches past start-up phase and into going-concern phase, I still have many more things to worry about each day than I can possibly get to. Almost all of them are important. People are waiting for me. Everyone needs something. Customers need spices. Employees need direction. Everyone needs to stay healthy. Plans need to be finalized, somehow, without a clue what the future holds right now. Out in the world, people need masks and gloves and ventilators. People need testing, a vaccine. A functioning democracy. In my own operation, people need masks and gloves. People need to be paid. Everyone needs sleep. And kindness. And love.
It’s too big, and there is uncertainty everywhere. As the chaos swirls around and everyone’s needs are too much, I remind myself of this:
All I have to do is choose the right next thing.
I don’t have to know everything. I have to know the right next thing.
Making this choice is the most important thing I can do today. Right now. Ever. It’s the only thing I can do. Everything else comes down to this. It’s my choice to make, and mine alone.
So what’s the right next thing?
It’s not the perfect thing. It’s not the end thing. In all likelihood, it’s a very small thing. But it’s the right thing to do next.
Action without a decision means doing whatever feels good, or quiets the loudest voices. But that might not be the right thing. It must be chosen. Consciously.
So I need to quiet all the other voices. Quiet my own thoughts, fears and uncertainties. Quiet my sense of responsibility for all the world’s problems. I quiet the obligations, the social protocols, the overwhelm. I quiet my desire for escape. I make things as still as I possibly can.
Only when things are very, very quiet, can I listen to my own heart. My end-game. What are my values? What are my goals? Where am I heading? What matters most?
Of all the demands and all the options, I search for the one. The one tiny step down the path I most want to travel. Toward the future I most want to inhabit. The person I most want to be. One teeny, tiny step.
I make make peace with all the other things. Shhh, I promise I’ll get to you.
Then, it’s time to turn and throw my whole self into the one thing. No need to doubt. This is where I belong right now. It might be really hard. It might be annoying, or boring. Sometimes, it’s heartbreaking. If I’m lucky, it might be enjoyable. I might even be good at it. But none of that really matters, because it’s the right next thing.
That’s what I need to know.
Ramps are here
My ramps, straight from the Montclair Farmers Market.
Spring this year feels like a movie I’m watching from a darkened room, rather a season of my actual life. Somehow Nature is still moving forward with her usual budding and blossoming, apparently with the mistaken impression that this year is just like any other.
And so, insistently, ramps have arrived! I picked these up from my friends The Foraged Feast at the Montclair Farmers Market a couple weeks ago. I cut them crosswise, then lightly sauteed them in duck fat, after braising two duck breasts for dinner (which I had also gotten from the farmers market, at Vacchiano Farms). I followed this method for cooking the duck breasts, and they were unbelievably tasty.
Not enough leftovers, alas. (The bigger these darn kids get, the more they eat!)
(PS - If you’re new around here, welcome! Adventure Kitchen is a local, small-batch maker of original spice blends and prepared foods, and I’m the founder and chief creator. Separately, I send a weekly email with recipes and cooking suggestions. If you’d like to follow along with that, you can sign up on this page. And if you’d like to support my small business, you can buy our spices online. We ship everywhere of course, and we deliver locally for free!)