Day 22

It just takes time. Well, not just time, but time is a key factor and I don't think there's any way around it.

I spent this last official day of summer doing a lot of cleaning. Wait, let me back up. I started the day gloriously late because the baby slept at my mom's. I can never thank her enough for being available this way, and for doing it so joyfully. Anyway, I then "scripted" my day, writing out the way I'd like it to go. And then I wrote a list of all the things I wanted to get done.

I knew before I started that there would be more things on the list than I could get done in one day, but I didn't know how many of them would feel like top priorities. At least by having them all on one (completely filled) piece of paper I could wrap my head around each item and start making choices.

One of my objectives was to clean off the top of my dresser because I couldn't stand looking at it anymore. I'm not sure this was the best idea; the dresser somehow turned into the dresser plus the night table, and I cannot believe how much stuff fit on this two relatively small surfaces! I tossed some stuff, put some back where it belonged, and found two needle-nose pliers to fix a bunch of necklaces the baby broke during his "yanking" phase. But the job's not done--there are still things spread across my bed that have no real home to go to. I know that's why they ended up on these other surfaces to begin with, but I simply didn't have time to get it all done today.

I won't be disheartened by this. I will put it all together in an orderly fashion and address it again tomorrow or the next day or as soon as possible. There's nothing urgent in the pile, it's just stuff that needs to be dealt with or housed somewhere. (I keep having to repeat this to myself, because my heart sinks every time I look at it.) It's not personal, it's just stuff.

What I'd really love is to suddenly be released from my attachment and fears around stuff. I don't want to be afraid that I might need it someday (whatever "it" is), anxious because I spent money on it and never got enough use out of it, frustrated because I'm supposed to do something with it (return it, look into it, refer back to it, put it in a scrapbook, save it, give it to someone, use it to grow my business or to make my life and the lives of the people around me better in some unique and miraculous way) and haven't or don't want to or don't have the time to think about it.

What would it be like if I just tossed it all? Would my life fall apart? Would I berate myself and never forgive myself for dumping the one thing that would make a difference? I need to go back and read The Quiltmaker's Gift again. The answer never lies in a thing. It's more likely to be found in what I was talking about yesterday, in being able to enjoy life and actually be present for it. Not have your mind whirring and planning and living three miles ahead of you.

Maybe another new habit could be to give something away every day. That would be interesting. I might try that.

In the meantime, my chair was clear last night for the first time since we came home from the trip last Tuesday, and it felt GREAT! It really does make a difference. It feels good when you see the results of what you've been working on. I will keep going, and the change will settle into me, and before you know it I'll turn around and realize that my status quo is great.