NO SHAME AND BLAME

Posted on March 24, 2018 by hafong

I feel very tired and cross after my second day of excavating the rubble in the basement. I am making progress but it is always a bigger job than I envision. It always is. And I would abandon the project time and time again. I should have been listening to Benjamin Franklin when he said, “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” I haven’t done any maintenance work in the basement for two years. I take things down but nothing comes up – not even dust. Now I’m paying the price. I’ll probably be a few pounds heavier after I’m done. It’s hard and stressful. I’m snacking.

I’m trying to be more efficient and tough with the stuff – recycle or throw out. No saving in case of it might come in handy later. Some things are difficult to recycle because frankly people rather get new stuff. I hate cluttering up the landfill with my stuff, so for now the rowing machine, exercise bike, mini stepper and slant board are in the garage. Maybe in summer I will bring them out as free grabs. Then what do you do with all those cutesy baskets and containers? I blame them for my accumulation of stuff. Then there’s my very old computer. How do you get all the data off the hard drive – smash it? And how do you get the hard drive out of the tower? I suppose I should ask at a computer store.

I’m feeling better, not so cross or tired. I just ate a bowl of chips. They help rid the dust in my throat. Yes, it is a little dusty down there with a few cobwebs. I should be ashamed of myself but what good would that do? I’m feeling bogged down as it is. Shame would add to the load. So no thanks to shame or blame. Life happens as they say. Tomorrow I will do a little more and a little better.

I HAD A DREAM

Posted on March 16, 2018 by hafong

My favourite speech is Martin Luther King’s famous I Have a Dream. I’ve been having more dreams lately and remembering them after. They’re not anything like King’s. I’m usually screaming in them. Last night I dreamt I was in the upstairs shower. Even though I had double latched the door, a man intruded. I was puzzled. How did the door get opened? The latches were the the hook and eye type like the ones on our side gate. He was looking for someone. I didn’t scream this time. I told him to go back downstairs. There was a party going on.

It just occur to me that all my dreams are related to an intruder. In the previous dream someone stepping through the basement window. I could see the leg and the sheer curtains fluttering. That’s when I tried to scream. It felt as if I couldn’t get it out but apparently I did. I woke up the dog and the guy. In my dreams, I never see faces. The leg and the window was the most vivid picture I could recall from all my dreams. Mostly I remember screaming and calling for help. I wonder why. In my younger years, I dreamt of ghosts sitting on and paralyzing me.

The day has sped away on me. I haven’t made any progress on my intentions of transplant-ing more seedlings or starting more seeds. My work tables and desk are as cluttered as ever. They’re nightmarish. I have no excuse really except for my usuals of being tired and full of aches and pains. I’m getting sick and tired of my own thoughts and whines. I will descend and attack those areas in a short while. Famous last words, right?

But in spite of my snail’s pace, I haven’t fallen behind. I just haven’t progressed. I did skip my exercise class this morning. Why aggravate my physical pain? I will swim on the weekend. It will be easier on my joints. The lunch dishes got done and put away. Sheba and I managed to get to the park after lunch. It was easier than walking on treacherous icy sidewalk. There was lots of happy energetic dogs and their humans. It gave me an extra boost on this cloudy day. Now, I’ve shown up here, tapping out my words.

Okay now, I’m ready to tend to my work spaces. The guy has made a table for my new sewing machine. It’s like a dream come true. I’ve never had one – a special table or dream come true. It has sections that fold out or in. I will have space when I get past my 6 inch squares and into a big quilt. It will fold onto itself when I’m not sewing and fit in a small corner. It should help me organize my ‘stuff’. It might take me a long time but I can start.

WANTING TOO MUCH OF TOO LITTLE

Posted on August 6, 2017 by hafong

Sometimes I sound like a stuck record. I mostly talk about getting things done, about getting the house in order. I’ve been talking about it for years now. I wonder if that’s what you talk about, too. Have we been brainwashed by Martians and aliens from outer space? We certainly have created a niche for many entrepreneurs like Marie Kondo, closet organizers, declutters and minimalists of kinds. Have these people made us into thinking we have too much stuff? Do we really need to streamline, get rid and fold everything into thirds and tuck into tiny little boxes?

Life is such an irony. We have people telling us we need more. More is success. Bigger is better. New and shiny is wonderful so they make things that breaks easily and you can’t fix. And there are no more little repair shops. You have to buy warranties. What you have is more stuff that doesn’t work and less money in the bank. Then the other people come and sell you stuff to organize what you are trying to rid.

I feel like a victim, falling for all the pitches. I’m easily swayed by the ads, free promos and flattering. Here I am today, owner of much stuff and how to do, how to help yourself, how to…books. I’ve waken up though. I’m seeing the extremes of both sides. I’m trying to think for myself. I’m figuring and tapping out my own how to’s. Then I’m going to DO it. I haven’t read a book yet where they tell you have to stop researching and accumulating information. That the want of a Marie Kondo drawer/closet is very addictive. It is but you have to stop, think and DO your own stuff, your own way.

RAINY MORNING MUSINGS

Posted on May 10, 2016 by hafong

It’s raining – the first of the year. I’m grateful. My garden is grateful – for this drink of life. It is cool – 4 degrees Celsius after last week’s blistering 32. Tomorrow and the next night, the forecast for -1 and -2 respectively. Nothing is predictable anymore. Was anything ever? Have a look at what is happening in Fort McMurray, Alberta. It is like a dream. I am sure it is a nightmare for the residents fleeing their city as the fires rages.

I am philosophical, uncertain but happy and grateful this rainy, cool 10th of May. I took a tour of my garden, securing the covers over the tender young tomatoes I planted 2 days ago. I might have been too optimistic and foolish thinking that the temperature could not possibly dip below 0 anymore. But what the hey? Nothing ventured, nothing gained/learned. I have a good feeling about my green thumb. I feel like a winner at the moment. I’m going with it.

I’ve doubted my feelings and myself for too long. I’m making up by taking taking a giant big step forward. I’m being confident. I’m being happy with myself as I am, no apologies. It feels good. There’s no time for putting myself on the back burner for others. I’m moving closer and closer towards my own mortality every day. If I don’t live for me now, when then?

Life is messy and wonderful. That is what I take away from Anne Lamott. In Bird by Bird she wrote,

“Clutter and mess show us that life is being lived …Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation… Perfectionism is a mean, frozen form of idealism, while messes are the artist’s true friend. What people somehow forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here.”

I am now wondering why I have been so taken with Marie Kondo and her The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. I have been a clutter bug all my life. I could learn to be a little neater but more would be trying to get a leopard to rid its spots or a zebra its stripes. What was I thinking? There’s beauty and artistry in our clutter and messes. After all, it is what our lives are made of.

I am tired of holding my breath, suspending my animation. I am letting me out of the bag. So happy to have this rainy interlude to muse much about it all and savour life.

RAINY DAY LAZIES

Posted on June 18, 2014 by hafong

It’s been raining on and off all day. It’s coming down hard as I speak, the rain spattering and running down the window. But it is one of those easeful, lazy kind of day. It is the kind that spells REST.

Sheba and I did go for our walk this morning. We both got dressed in our black rain gear and splashed our way through the puddles at leisure. What’s a little rain? The traffic around the neighbourhood was something else. With so many road detour blockage, our normally quiet side streets were abuzz with cars going every which way. Then a cyclist rode up behind us and rang his bell. Sheba did not like that! It was NOT relaxing.

I was not completely lazy. I managed a thing or two. I dusted my rock and seashell collection that I had brought back from Ghana. I listened to the music of Loreena McKennitt. I drank tea. Reading someone’s blog post on discovering your purpose and your calling, I discovered in that moment I didn’t want a purpose or a calling. I wanted just to live my life for myself. Would you call that selfish?

Selfish or not, I am elated that I have definite feelings about something. I’m not willy nilly after all. How wonderful that I’m not another sailor lost at sea. I have a sense of direction. Maybe that is what purpose is.

I did some filing and clearing of the desk, but somehow no matter how many pieces of paper I move, things didn’t look any better. But I remembered what Anne Lamott said about messes and clutter.

“But clutter and mess show us that life is being lived. Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground – you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip. Tidiness suggests that something is as good as it’s going to get. Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation, while writing needs to breathe and move.”

And she is right! I am happily tapping away in my clutter, finding little nuggets in my piles.

FERTILE GROUND

Posted on June 12, 2014 by hafong

The day is in glorious warmth and sunshine. A fresh breeze is coming in from my window. The air is alive with children’s voices and laughter from the daycare one house removed.

We are back from our morning bike ride, the three of us – the man on his recumbent trike, me on my upright trike and Sheba on foot. I have a couple of shots of us before we headed out.

It was a little harder managing my iPhone, bike and dog while in motion. It was a little tricky as you can tell by these shots. One handed Annie was not good with her aim!

We are back and I am tapping away on my keyboard in the midst of my usual clutter and mess. I have been reading Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. I like what she says of clutter.

“But clutter and mess show us that life is being lived. Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground – you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip. Tidiness suggests that something is as good as it’s going to get. Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation, while writing needs to breathe and move.”

Yesterday I had looked under some of my piles, cleaned a few things up. I found a couple of treasures. I held them in my hands and could not edit them out – yet. I filed them for the time being. It’s hard to erase myself.

I’m fixing things bit by bit. I am getting a grip. My feet are firmly on the ground, though my mind wanders from time to time. There’s always things to work on – piles to clear, words to write, stitches to ply, love to be had, God to thank…

THE SHORT OF IT…OR LETTING GO

Posted on October 25, 2012 by hafong

So I tend to hang on to things, like clutter…of all kinds. I have a difficult time of letting go. I’m like Sheba with a bone. It is said that it is really not about the stuff, but something else. So what is it, then? Do I know?

I find everything hard, even breathing nowadays. I have gained back the whole nine yards and probably more that I have lost when I first got Sheba. It is hard to maintain that pace, or so I like to tell myself. I guess you might say I’m a bit down in the dump with winter rearing its ugly head. The morning is dark, dark till 8 am. It is hard to drag my butt out of bed in a cheerful manner. But being an adult, I still TRY to do my best even though I do feel like crying.

My phone is ringing and I answer. I am hoping that someone is calling just to chat….you know…how it used to be, when people call up each other for a visit? But no, it is from someone who is doing research of some sort. I am honest. I don’t want to answer a bunch of questions for someone’s research project. You might say I am somewhat melancholy, but what the heck? Who needs to be brave and wear a cheerful front all the time? It is still October and there is snow on the ground and everything is messy!

But I am brave! I can still get out of bed in the morning, though not cheerfully. I am not hopping up and down with joy but I am still interested. I am still interested enough to get with the program, to get out of the house and face the world, to take care of business and to get my hair cut. It is such a relief to be shorn. It is symbolic action of some sort…. to rid myself of the excess, of the weight of unnecessary cargo. I am letting go.

I am letting go of many things…excess hair, the need to fix everything for everyone, the need of doing the proper thing all the time, the need to live up to my own expectations. I am letting go. I am free falling. I am creating my own serotonin. I am creating joy. I am also having a glass or two of wine.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity

Tag Archives: clutter