Two year ago, at Christmas, I was feeling very generous towards myself.

I had a fairly good year, relative to earnings, and I wanted to have a lot of wrapped presents stationed under my tree.

After a little research, I decided to buy myself two Sonos wireless speakers. They were highly rated for sound quality and didn’t take up much room. I planned to mount them over the French doors between my office and dining area.

Well, as I’ve often joked, I come from a long line of people who hire other people to handle little household tasks. I didn’t know how to install proper mounting brackets. I didn’t even realize that wireless speakers still needed to be in proximity of a power source (outlet). I thought they were completely WIRELESS.

So, after the fun of unwrapping my presents, in my guest bedroom closet, the speakers sat…and sat. Still in their boxes.

Just before this past Christmas, I decided I had waited long enough. I bought mounting hardware on amazon.com. Because I had issues related to my dishwasher and toilet, I felt justified in hiring a handyman who, I figured, could take care of everything.

Ah…Finally, I’d be able to chop onions to Tom Petty or have friends enjoy dinner around my table with a jazz favorite or perhaps kirtan music playing in the background…..But no….

The handyman (a very reasonably priced find from one of those online neighborhood forums) finished installation in quick order. The speakers were placed and mounted as instructed. But I could not get music to play from them.

The handyman tried to help me configure the system (a service beyond what should have been expected). Two other friends, who are more tech savvy than I am, tried to help me set up an account with Sonos, but we couldn’t get everything to work.

I talked my twenty-three year-old niece into coming over for dinner (the promise of grilled steak and low-carb ice cream, apparently, could not be ignored).

She advised that it would be best to do everything from my phone (which seemed weird to me since I didn’t care about mobile use), and, after holding my iPhone in different locations around my office, kitchen, and dining room (the “affected” area), she successfully installed the app.

She set up a menu, like Sirius radio, with Beatles, folk, classic rock, and a few other stations.

She laughed.

“We’ll have to set you up with a service and create playlists another day.”

Of course, I was grateful for her help, yet I was still uneasy. Something that I thought should have been easy wasn’t, at least, not for me. And I had a mind full of memories that pointed to my failings; months of opening my closet door and seeing the Sonos boxes on the floor; weeks of seeing the speakers mounted in my dining room, where they remained mute.

And I would still need more help to address my simple desire to select music that suited my mood while I was cooking. I considered how things are never DONE.

Then, I had a realization. This new perspective was a much better gift than the pair of expensive wireless speakers I bought for myself over two years ago.

I recognized that, for much of the time, I dwell on what I have to do. I imagine this notion is common. Don’t we all have to-do lists? They seem to grow bigger every day.

I don’t remember who coined the expression, ta-da list, and I don’t think all activities should be reduced to an item on a list anyway, but it dawned on me how much I needed to give more attention to acknowledging accomplishments.

It’s not enough to check off an item on a to-do list.

A better thing, maybe the best thing you can give yourself, is to recognize an accomplishment and spend time in this space of pride and completion. Maybe you can perform a symbolic gesture of gratitude to yourself for what you can label “done.”

Since last summer, I published two books I started writing years ago. I guided my dog through rehab after knee surgery. Just last week, I worked through an issue with Apple Support that should prove helpful for me. And now, I can listen to Beatles Radio or 24/7 Motown in my dining room.

Feeling a sense of accomplishment, even if just marking milestones or incremental progress in a worthwhile direction, is no small thing.