I tell myself I’m putting things in order.

Cleaning up.

Organizing.

Tightening the edges.

It feels productive.

Sometimes I’m not sequencing.

I’m tidying.

There’s a difference.

Sequencing is first things first.

The move that matters most goes first.

Then the next one.

Then the one that only makes sense after that.

It’s directional.

Tidying is different.

Tidying adjusts the surface.

Straighten the stack.

Rewrite the sentence.

Sweep the floor.

Again.

It’s easy to confuse the two.

Putting things in order might be what we’re here to do.

Turning chaos into coherence.

Finding pattern where there was noise.

Making something usable out of what was scattered.

That can be sacred work.

It can also be a hiding place.

Sometimes I know the move that matters.

I can feel it.

There’s something for me to do.

I don’t want to.

I’m uncertain.

Unclear.

Success isn’t guaranteed.

It’s wildly uncomfortable.

So …

I “fix” something else.

Perfect the draft.

Rearrange the notes.

Sweep the floor.

Again.

Tidying quiets my discomfort.

Sequencing confronts it.

One makes the room look better.

Makes me feel better.

The other changes what happens next.

Informs me of what to do next.