Tag Archives: clutter

FALLS AND FAILURES

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The other day I wondered why I am still so caught up with all my stupidity on my clutter. I have been retired for 7 years and I am still writing on and on about the same things. When am I going to stop? It feels rather bizarre. I feel my life unlived. I need to stop. Right now! I can hear Caroline Myss‘ voice shouting. Stop it, right now! But you know that I won’t. I have committed a year to doing Stephanie Vogt’s A Year to Clear.

I haven’t made great progress. I am taking those ‘baby steps’, a phrase I hate with a passion. Let me rephrase it to little steps. No point in using words and phrases I do not like. It is important how we talk to ourselves. It could make or break us. I AM making progress. I feel my path clearing before me. It’s like being on the ski track. I am getting to be a better skier, too. Not speed wise though. I’m still mincing along, like a Chinese maiden of yore, on bounded feet. I’m using less effort and steadier, though I did tumble straight off today. I landed flat on my back. My head thudded in my soft snow.

Our failures lies not in our falls but in not getting up. I rolled onto my side. Got my skis out from underneath me. Bent my knees toward my chest and got up almost gracefully. It is very satisfying rising with my boots still attached to my skis and my feet in my boots. Hooray, I am risen! I will have to practice in leaning forward more. I am still falling straight back, right on top of my skis. Amazing! And the day was so beautiful, the trees casting shadows in dappled sunlight on the snow. The dogs across the back alley barked as we circled around the park. I did my usual 2 to the guy’s 7.

It is almost the end of the day. I am tapping and waiting for supper. My sourdough chocolate chip cookies are in the oven after the roast came out. It’s not the baking and roasting that is labourous. It’s the dishes and cleaning up after. I did a whole mess of washing dishes, pots and pans today. I made Chinese steamed buns this morning. Then there was lunch and the cookies. I try not to think of how much work or time it all takes. I said to myself, OK, it’s a process. Do one thing at a time. There is no rush. No need to count how much you have accomplished. It works pretty good. I got into a flow, washing one dish, then two, a pot, a pan and so on.

Now I need to set an intention to sew another mask tomorrow. I have the pattern and material ready and set out.

LOST IN SPACE

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I think I am uncomfortable with the emptiness of spaciousness. Hence all my clutter. It’s not that I am a hoarder. It’s not that my house is jammed full of stuff. I have pockets of stuff here and there. My desk, diningroom table, sewing table, coffee tables…There’s a common theme here. Tables! Things do not get thrown out or put away. I have an inability of finishing tasks. They are sitting out, waiting for me to come back. It is the same way with a trip. I love the tripping but I don’t want to get to the end. It’s when I get there, what will I do? That is the discomfort, the emptiness, the unknown. Then the unknown is forced upon me because a trip does end.

How silly is that fear and whence did it come? There are no answers to some questions so I shall not waste time mulling it over. I let the feeling come and work through it. Now when I start something, I try to finish it in a reasonable timeline. I work on it with simple tasks. When the dishes are done, I dry and put them away. I hang up the laundry after it is finished. When it is dried, I take them down, fold and put them away. I haven’t made great strides but I do feel a change. It took a lot of effort at first. The inclination to leave things for ‘later’ was so strong. It’s much easier than. There’s almost a pleasure in completing a job and doing it well.

I have the same aversion to ’empty time’, too. It is uncomfortable/strange to do nothing. I am always doing something, reading, writing, drawing, cooking…..It’s not that I can do nothing now. I just do fewer things. I do things slower. I make more time for slow walks, slow baths, sleeping in a bit. I’m getting back to more how I used to be. I used to be able to sit, sip tea and just listen to CBC radio and do nothing else. There was time for my brain to rest. There was time for me to feel the pleasure of just being. Now I am almost afraid of empty time and spaciousness. It is time for recovery and retrieval.

THE YEAR AHEAD

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These may not be the best of times. It certainly is the strangest of times. Most of all, it is the only time we have. I’m trying to find a way to make the most of it. I’ve been a little frustrated, irritated, a little angry, a little up and a little down, feeling the whole kaleidoscope of emotions. Today I’m feeling more at ease and relaxed. I’ve come through the clouds though it is a cloudy day. No sun at all but it is a mild December day. It is -1 degrees Celsius. It is cooler in the greenhouse, -1.6.

I’ve been frustrated with my clutter, my inefficiency. It seems I’ve been working at it for years. Or have I? I’m probably just spinning in my tracks, going nowhere. I have Stephanie Bennett Vogt’s A Year to Clear on my Kindle app. Maybe it’s time for me to open it and follow it daily. The chapters are in weeks and within days. Surely I can tackle a single day at a time. It will be good training for my errant brain. I really have difficulty concentrating and doing things step by step in order. I often skip the middle of the book and read the ending. I am impatient. I can’t tolerate/enjoy the whole process. Often I don’t make it back to read the whole story.

I’m practicing on being more patient, tapping slowing and patiently on my keyboard. Sometimes my thoughts race ahead of my fingers. It’s torture to proofread but I will start to do that from now on. I’m good at figuring out computer glitches. I tap here and there until everything works. I can’t tell you how or why though. That’s what my brain is like – a mess of synapses snapping away. Order inside and out is what I desire. I will put that down on my list on my Notes app.

The day has progressed into evening. I will shut it down soon. I have opened A Year to Clear. I will take the time to work through the days and weeks. I am taking this week to relax into the process and to reflect on what it is that I want to clear and what to keep. It is not just about stuff. My mind is as cluttered as my dining room table. I will take it slow and easy. I have a whole year ahead.

A GOOD PRACTICE

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It’s another first day of the rest of my life. I’m as grumpy as all get up. Summer heat makes my whole body ache on rising. But I shall grin and bear it. I’m going to tackle my most dreaded chore of tackling the paper pile today. I’m not exactly fresh nor energized but mornings are still my best time. We’ll see how I will progress. Nothing happens if I don’t begin. Beginning is hard. Beginning is the magic word.

Purging is the first step. Boy, what a chore! I’m very bad at not opening my mail. That was my first pile. They’re mostly opened now and put in their appropriate piles. I’ve had this problem for a long time. It’s something that I do know. There’s only one way to correct it. That is to open my mail and deal with it ASAP. Let me put it on the list of bad habits to correct. I’ll start off August with opening each piece of mail. Let me to see if I can do that for the whole month.

It is now middle of the afternoon. My box of paper is not overflowing anymore. My bills are paid. I will not try to do any more hard sorting today. I do feel less overwhelmed. Why do I keep doing that to myself, eh? Over and over. I will not try to deal with the psychology of all that. No need to be that gerbil on the wheel. I can just fall off and do the work.

It’s another first day of the rest of my life. There has been a couple of such days since the last. I don’t profess this great or inspired writing. I just want to chart my progress of this journey call life. Once you hit a certain age and certainly after retirement, there are less significant markers. But I can’t say that for this year. Covid-19 is a huge marker of 2020. Myy mother’s shingles experience is memorable but with a good outcome. Sheba’s leaving us for doggy heaven was heart wrenching but natural in the order of life and death.

It’s good for me to do my tapping/talking here. I know I’m not being correct when the words hit the page. I can do an edit. But if I keep it all inside, the words and worries will turn over and over, fester and grows infectious. They can poison my body and soul. This is a good practice for me. Now that I’ve tapped out a few words and thoughts, I will head over to sort some paper clutter. Another day in the life of….

NO SHAME AND BLAME

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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

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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

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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

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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.

IMG_5382I’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.”

IMG_5373I 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.

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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

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IMG_6680It’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.

IMG_0932I 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.

IMG_0934I 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

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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…