CASCADING CLUTTER

Once again there is just too much stuff. I don't even know if all of this stuff has a home. And if it doesn't have a home, should I make one or just toss? Now there is a dilemma. Probably why so much stuff is collecting -- no designated home. And yet with the clutter comes an inner sense of instability -- almost panic. Too much to do. Not enough time. Not enough space to do the work. My mind gets boggled and crowded and my sense of self gets confused and productivity comes at a price. And the price usually is cluttering up another sight with yet other stuff.

It gets just so deep and then action must be taken. Usually I know what is in the layers. Not exactly 'where' but at least 'what.' When I lose track of the 'whats' because they have been there for so long and the 'where' of what I do remember is history, then I must DO something. The call to action is brought on by a variety of things: a lost important something; lack of space even for list making; a torrential cascade that threatens to finally slip away to the floor when I try to get to my calender; molding citrus rinds; and most of all the sense of futility it instills in me.

So the day after the above picture was taken I vowed to clear the clutter. It took the better part of the day. I made sure that what I picked up found a place to live -- or was history into the round file. And while I was at it the places that I went with 'stuff' got a little attention also. But the primary goal was to clear down to the desktop. To have no clutter. To relieve my stress. To bring peace into my life.

And this is how it looked when I was finished. And I have been able to keep it this way for almost a week. I am having to relearn efficiency and organizational principles. Basics: take care of mail -- NOW; return items to proper place when finished; make new homes for new items or projects; don't even think I am going to come back to finish something, either finish it or put it away.

I am enjoying this. It is freeing. Spirit lifting. Opens a world of possibilities instead of 'have tos.' There is still more to come, of course. I am negotiating for a new desk and counter and places to have things at hand that I use often. Work in progress. Isn't that wonderful?

THE 24 HOUR RULE

Once learned, the 24 hour rule has served me well. I'm not going into the embarrassing/hurtful experiences that taught me this rule; suffice it to say I have learned. Well....for the most part....I can be pretty hostile and vehement with words and it is easy for me to get carried away with myself

Following the rule was pretty easy when I was dealing with snail mail. Just don't put a stamp on the envelope for the waiting period, then if it's a go, apply stamp and mail. With the onset of e-mail I had to learn the lesson all over again. Hitting that "send" button can be automatic. Now I do not put in the address of the recipient for the 24 hour wait period. It has been a live and learn experience and thankfully most of the people on the butt end of my indiscretions have been forgiving.

Now that I am sorting and tossing through this DEcluttering process, the 24 hour rule is serving me well again. The bag "to go" needs to sit for the wait period. I have changed my mind about a few of the items that were going to be tossed. They may be tossed the next time around, but not this time.

DECLUTTERING ANGST

This process of decluttering is a continuing struggle with who I am and what I was. True that who I was has a cumulative effect on who I am. But is it necessary to keep all these remembrances of what was? Like college year books. I have four of my husband's and three of my own. I hated college, hated being away from my family, hated being in the college situation, hated dating, hated having roommates. Hated the whole thing. So why keep these remembrances. Is anyone else going to care? NOoooo.

But the angst of actually letting them go is troubling me. It isn't as though it is like throwing away a part of myself. The only part of me that is in there is a class picture. I was not a "belonging" type of person -- no sports teams, no hobby groups, no intellectual organizations. Maybe it is the what might have been that bothers me? Don't see how that could be. I don't do groups very well. In any group situation I feel like an outsider, always on the fringe, not important, not necessary. How this came to be, I don't know. I have felt this way since our move to Chicago in 1949. Never fit in anyplace after that.

SO away with the year books.

DECLUTTERING BEGINS

Some progress was made today. I cleared off the table. Doesn't sound like much, but any is some. The mental preparedness is probably the first big hurdle. Deciding that it has to be done is tough. I have lived in this house for going on forty-five years. I came here as a child of twenty-six with two young boys, Jeffri was four, Scott one.


When we did the renovation is 2001 there was quite a bit of sorting but mostly schlepping. I am a saver. My dad was a saver. His mother was a saver. I have some stuff that HE saved. And this is the sentimental stuff that tears at the heart to discard. Somethings just belong. Do they get passed down forever? No! Eventually it will mean nothing and get tossed. Better I make some decisions now so that the boys don't have to make hard decisions later and struggle with guilt. I can do the guilt now.