It seems every morning I wake up to face a list of 20 things to

"It seems every morning I wake up to face a list of 20 things to do, with time only to do 10, and somehow I always wind up squishing in 30." Thus spoke Karen Salmansohn, with words that ring true to all who walk the road of modern life. Hidden within this lighthearted confession is not only the comedy of human busyness, but also the deeper truth of human resilience. For in her words we see the tension between time and task, between the finite hours of the day and the infinite demands placed upon the soul.

The image is vivid: each morning, a mountain of 20 tasks rises before her. Time itself, relentless and unyielding, grants room for only half. Yet somehow, by force of will or by the strange elasticity of effort, she finds herself completing 30. This is no mere arithmetic—it is the mystery of human striving. It is the way a mother tends not only her children but her home and her craft, or how a leader bears the weight of state, yet still finds room to dream. Karen’s words remind us that though the day seems too narrow for the life we long to live, the spirit, when pressed, can stretch the boundaries of possibility.

History offers us countless examples of this paradox. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, whose notebooks brimmed with inventions, paintings, calculations, and dreams that no single lifetime could contain. He too faced each dawn with more visions than hours, more ambitions than days. Yet in that very pressure, he created marvels that outshine centuries. Like Salmansohn, he did not abandon the excess; he “squished” it in, pressing the weight of many lives into the span of one. The lesson is that the human spirit is not meant to move in neat lines, but to overflow, to surge, to attempt what seems impossible.

Yet let us not mistake this abundance for chaos. The secret of accomplishing 30 tasks with the time for 10 lies not in despair but in creative energy, in focus, and in the refusal to be crushed by impossibility. Many, when faced with too much, retreat and do nothing. But the wise—and the bold—throw themselves into motion, and in motion they discover that time itself bends to those who dare. Just as the warrior on the battlefield fights ten men though he is but one, so the seeker of goals may do the work of days within a single dawn.

There is also humor in Karen’s words, and humor itself is wisdom. She does not complain, but smiles at the absurdity of human striving. This, too, is vital. For if one faces the mountain of tasks with only dread, the spirit will break. But if one faces it with lightness, with laughter, then the burden becomes a game, a dance, an act of creativity. To laugh at the endless lists of life is not to deny their weight, but to rise above them, to remind oneself that we are more than our calendars, more than our chores.

What then, is the lesson for us? That we must embrace both discipline and acceptance. Begin each morning with clarity: write your list, know your tasks, and honor your duties. But do not be shackled by the numbers. Know that life often asks for more than is possible, yet within you lies more than you imagine. The mind and the heart, when fully engaged, can stretch hours and multiply strength. Even if you cannot do all, do enough—and let that be victory.

Practical action flows from this teaching: prioritize wisely, yet also allow yourself to flow. Take joy in the unexpected task that finds its way into your day. Celebrate not only the ten you planned, but the thirty you somehow completed. And when exhaustion comes, smile as Karen smiled, for you have lived not passively, but abundantly.

So let the words echo in your heart: each morning, when the list rises like a tide, do not despair. Move, laugh, attempt, overflow. For though time is narrow, the human spirit is vast. And in the paradox of doing more than seems possible, we find not only survival, but greatness.