There's only one solution for it - in addition to chocolate, of course - and I'm sorry, but it doesn't involve running away to a tropical island until madness dies down. That's what Kranks try to do in Christmas with Kranks, a wonderful movie based on John Grisham's Skipping Christmas. It doesn't work for them either. No, what we have to do is take back control of our lists and our lives. We have to cut that list down to manageable size.

"How?" you say? I'm so glad you asked. Because that's what this Musing is all about. To start with, before you can trim your list, you have to make one. Start by choosing someplace where you can write down all chores you have to do. (I keep my list in a spiral notebook. A client of mine uses a computer spreadsheet. Another uses her PDA. Figure out what will work best for you.) Don't sort it out by categories like "home," "family," "work," "school," etc. Just let it be jumbled together. And don't include appointments over which you have little or no control.

Here's an excerpt from my list (The real list is much, much longer): - put snow tires on - send gift list to parents - send gift list to brother - finish Change One Habit e-book - plan March trip - develop future teleclasses - clean out linen closet - balance business check book - bring in furniture from balcony - find out when family is coming for holidays (call Mom) - replace buttons on black shirt - bug brother about gift lists for kids (call) - buy holiday cards - re-write website copy - develop product survey - write copy for new, First Muse Bank website - write family holiday newsletter - defrost freezer - paint laundry room - write 4 D's essay

There are a couple of advantages to having everything written down. First, it relieves you of that nagging feeling that you are going to forget something important. Then sheer physical presence of that list (and its length) will remind you to stop and think before you take something else on. Do you really have time and energy to handle another project right now? Your list is a great reality check. Finally, you will experience sheer joy when you can actually cross something off that list. (Which is why I like to write it down in a notebook; then I get satisfaction of crossing it off. Just deleting it off a spreadsheet doesn't quite do it for me).

When you've finished list and shaken writer's cramp out of your hand (chocolate may help), you're ready to start cutting it down to size. That's challenging part. To make it easier, apply first Four D's: DELAY, DELEGATE, DO LESS, DELETE. Here's how.

For each item on your list, decide if you can:

- put it off until after holidays (or longer) (DELAY), - have someone else do it or hire it out (DELEGATE), - make task shorter or easier, or combine it with another task (DO LESS), - strike it from your list completely (DELETE). Your goal is to cut your list in half - at least.

To help you decide which D to apply, here are a few questions:

DELAYING. Ask yourself: - Does this really have to be done now? - Is this my deadline, or somebody else's? - What would it cost me if I put this off for a week, a month, six months, or a year? Can I live with that?

One of rules of practicing we all hear over and over is "Be sure to practice slowly." (I'm guilty of this too!) Often result of this is a feeling of inhibition, which leads to tedium. Picture yourself filled with excitement and yearning in setting out to learn a new piece. Suddenly a voice from darkness whispers: "Don't touch those keys! Sit erect, play slowly, stay strictly in time, watch that fingering..." and your smile is gone. I'm beginning to feel a cramp just talking about it.

The fact is, a certain amount of slow practice and attention to small scale detail is absolutely necessary. But there is something lacking in approach so many of us have taken; we set out to make music, and end up playing what amounts to no more than a series of sterile exercises.

How can we overcome this problem?

First of all, it's important to remember that music comes to life through shading, dynamics, differences in touch, shapes of its phrases, rhythmic vitality that is so much a part of right tempo. These qualities are all missing in a slow, rigid "practice" version of a piece. They are just as essential as correct fingering, and they don't come across without careful work.

So, perhaps we should change that rule from "Be sure to practice slowly" to "Practice as fast as possible." But Wait! This requires some further discussion. The slow part of practice helps teach fingers where to go, and makes it mush easier to learn work. But in order to learn how to create music, how to make piece sing—we must practice it at a tempo that will help reveal musical relationships and subtleties of form.