A few days ago, I wrote about becoming someone I never meant to be, how I had slowly turned impatient, reactive, and self-judging without even realizing it. How I had been compensating for old wounds instead of living in peace. And how, on a solo long drive, I finally chose to let go of that old identity.
But here’s what I discovered: knowing you need to change and knowing how to actually live differently are two separate problems. I realized I had been trying to change the wrong thing all along.
From To-Do List to To-Be List
For most of my life, I measured my days by what I finished.
Tasks completed. Emails answered. Problems solved. Lists crossed out. There was always something to do, something pending, something next.
To-Do list gave structure. It made me efficient. It made me productive.
But it never made me peaceful.
I started noticing this gap on days when everything got done, but I still didn’t feel content inside. The outside was organized. The inside wasn’t. Slowly, I began to understand that the problem wasn’t my workload; it was my state of mind.
That’s when I decided to shift from a To-Do list to a To-Be list.
To-Do list manages tasks.
To-Be list shapes character.
Tasks end. Character stays.
To-Do list asks: What should I finish today?
To-Be list asks: Who do I want to be while living today?
This looks small, almost trivial. But it changes everything. Because life isn’t only made of events, it is made of moments of response. And in each moment, what matters most isn’t the situation, but the state I meet it from.
So I started writing down qualities I wanted to return to. Not goals to achieve. Not boxes to check. Just ways of being that felt right.
I want to be calm and composed. Not because life will be calm, but because I’m tired of every external disturbance creating an internal storm. I learned that calmness is not being passive, but it is steadiness. The ability to pause before reacting. To breathe before speaking. To respond instead of exploding. This was the first thing on my list because it was the furthest from who I had become.
I want to be present. Most of my suffering comes from being mentally somewhere else. Replaying conversations from years ago. Worrying about things that haven’t happened. Meanwhile, life is actually unfolding right here, right now, and I’m missing it. Being present doesn’t mean controlling my mind perfectly. It just means noticing when I drift away, and gently coming back. No guilt. Just return.
Staying aligned with my inner dharma matters to me. Doing what feels right to my nature and values, not what looks impressive from the outside. When my actions come from alignment, there’s less noise inside. Decisions feel cleaner. Regret reduces. This isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being honest with myself about what actually matters.
Then there’s acceptance. I’ve spent years creating inner tension through judgment: of others, of situations, of myself. Acceptance doesn’t mean liking everything. This was hard to add to my list because, for years, I believed acceptance meant weakness. But I was wrong. Resistance kept me stuck. Acceptance creates space to move forward.
I want to maintain a learner’s attitude. A learning mind stays open. It listens. It doesn’t feel threatened by not knowing. From my experience, it is easier said than done. It hits directly at my ego. For someone who spent years in know-it-all mode, this is humbling. I was tired of carrying that weight. Curiosity feels lighter, and there’s something comforting about being able to simply say, I don’t know.
I feel lighter at heart, and it is deeply relaxing. Outcome is visible. My relationships have improved.
At the beginning, this To-Be list felt impossible. I got pulled back into old patterns. But slowly, I started to understand: that is the practice.
My goal is not to become perfect; instead, the goal is simply to increase the number of moments I’m able to live by my To-Be list. Each time I see I’m not being the person I want to be and come back to it, that is the practice.
Yesterday I lost my patience with my daughter over something trivial. I snapped. The moment passed. Later, sitting alone, I felt the familiar shame building up, that voice saying, “You still haven’t learned. All this reflection, and you still react like this.”
Then I remembered: this is the practice. Not perfection.
That small loop: lose it, notice, return, repair, is where the To-Be list starts changing my daily life. It is not that I never fail. It is now that I know how to come back.
The work doesn’t disappear. Responsibilities don’t disappear. And neither does my tendency to forget everything I know when I’m stressed, tired, or overwhelmed. But now there’s a list I can return to. Not to judge myself against. Just to remember: this is who I’m practicing to be. Some days I get close. Some days I don’t. Both are part of it.
To-Do list helps me manage my day.
To-Be list gives me something to return to when I’ve lost my way.
On the days I’m aware, when I catch myself reacting and pause to breathe, the outside world is still busy. But inside, there’s a small gap of calm. That is enough.
“What’s one quality on your To-Be list?”