Can I tell you something? It is difficult to write and work on being stuck when you are! Sometimes I feel so disgusted with myself. I try not to stay there. Yesterday I talked about how much time we spend on scrolling. I know that I haven’t always done so. I was a very late comer to the computer and smart phone. I was the smart one then. I’m not so now. It’s really not my fault. I fell into the same trap as many other people. Now I am determined to get out.

Instead of wasting time fighting my urges, I gave in and let my fingers wandered over the buttons, the mouse and keyboard. My brain still has some control over where they go. It can still say, enough now! I found this video this morning on clutter. It was a bit long, an hour. But since that’s what I am working on, it was well worth my time. I made my breakfast while I listened to it. I got some value from it.

I agree that the 3 things to work on are my emotions, time and stuff. And to work slow and prioritize, of course. I am not what you would call a hoarder. My house is not jam packed with stuff. I am a clutterer from way back, getting worse with each day. I tend to drop things wherever they happen to land. They never seem to be able to find a home. My worse traps are the dining room table and my desk.

The best time to work on anything is the present moment. That cuts the procrastination. I took her hint, got a box and cleared off my dining room table into it. That is, whatever could fit. Other times, I used a shoebox. I have a few of them around, waiting to be sorted and emptied. Next, I whipped off the tablecloths and threw them, along with a few other items into the washer. What a relief! I’ve been wanting to do that for quite a few days, but unable to, being paralyzed by emotions of I don’t know how. I know it sounds silly and lame. It is what it is.

I know my laundry is done by now. Time to hang it/put in dryer. I’ve done some dreaded dusting in the bedroom. The drapes are taken down and in the washer. It’s the blackout ones I made and hung last year. I’m sure they would appreciate a wash. Now that I’ve done that, I am not sure why it was so hard. I guess the hard part is if you don’t move, it’s hard to get it done. By taking ClutterClarity’s advice on going slow, I did kinda enjoy the process. It is nice to have a cleared table again. The next stop is my desk.


I can’t believe I’m in the same place. But it isn’t my fault. How often have I felt and said that? The other day cleaning out stuff, I found some scribbling dated 1988.

  1. I have trouble cleaning my house. I accumulate too many things
  2. I have trouble trusting other people with my feelings
  3. Right now I have a negative image with my head nurse which stems from the past
  4. I find it hard to take care of my car properly
  5. I can’t cook
  6. I need more time to pursue my goals

The list was from a course called Adventures in Attitude. From where I am sitting now, I can’t really say that I was successful or adventurous. I am mostly talk. I am very good at taking courses and reading self-help books. As for applying the principles, I’m not so sure.  I’m still talking the same lingo. I still have that same problem of keeping my place tidy. I still have piles of clutter. I can’t seem get pass GO.

I am not a total failure. I have rid a few items on the list. I can cook now. I don’t worry about the car anymore. I take it in for servicing. I no longer worry about head nurses. I’m free of working and answering to authority figures. I have time and yet still not enough. As for trusting others with my feelings, I’m here talking, aren’t I?

Where to go from here? Seems like I need to work on #1. So simple and yet so hard.  29 years later, I’m still crying and whining about the same damn things.  I better read Portia Nelson’s poem again. Better yet, if only I could DO the clearing and cleaning.

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn’t my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.