All you have to do is . . .

I like a clean and well ordered house. I don't like tidying it.

I love the smell and feel of freshly washed sheets. I hate doing the laundry.

Freshly cut grass smells wonderful. I could happily never cut the grass again.

I love knitting intricate designs. I find some advanced knitting patterns so frustrating that it's tempting to give up.

I enjoy writing, for my copywriting clients, for this blog, for Dunwoody Nature Center, and in many other forums. Sometimes it's really, really hard to get started.

I believe in volunteering: saying "yes" means doing my share in sustaining the wonderful quality of life our family enjoys in Dunwoody. But I get frustrated when the sum of all the individually important volunteer parts conflict so there isn't enough time to focus sufficiently on each single need.

One of the scariest things someone can say is "All you have to do is . . ." Because whatever it is, it isn't nearly as straightforward and simple as you'd like.

When it's hard to begin, I think about that magic "easy" button. I take a deep breath, write the first word/start the mower/toss the first load into the washing machine/do the math/start building the calendar, and forge ahead until I hit the housecleaning/yardwork/knitting/organizing endorphins that turn work into pleasure.

Life doesn't come with an "easy" button. Which makes each minor accomplishment such sublime pleasure.