Somewhere along the way I made a conscious decision to let my clutter be. Just to see what would happen. My life is in turmoil, I can't work on it all at once. The only caveat was that I couldn't beat myself up about it. (Deb's theory that clutter, messiness is a form of self abuse).
That took some doing. But, with practice, I was able to run up against an obstacle in the hallway, acknowledge it, and step over it without any value judgment on myself.
I did "gain" something I needed from a messy house-my own space. "The house is too messy, don't come down.".
But there are some disturbing elements, I don't use my closets or cabinets-everything is just OUT. What does that tell me? I think it tells me that I don't feel at home in my own home. I tend to do the same thing when I travel, leave the clothes in the suitcase. Ready for a quick get away.
I've pretty much learned all I think I can learn from living in a cesspit. I understand that it is the flip side of compulsive cleaning-the lazy girl's form of environmental control. I understand it needed to be done-this is MY house, I can let it get as messy as I want.
But the big thing that happens when it all falls down is-nothing happens. Not a damn thing. I've known compulsive cleaners who clean as if the devil himself is going to show up with a white glove. But what would happen if he did?
The Big What If gets us every time, doesn't it?
So, I bought a new planner for 2008 and I'm going to begin the tedious process of tidying up. I still have hopes for some insight-maybe the insight happens when you pick up the aftermath.
4 comments:
I hate continual cleaning but I love a good clean out. Piles are the anwer for me, that and a nice big garbage bag. The rule is...once it goes into the bag it doesn't come out. Very cathartic -
My piles tend to migrate-but I've employed the garbage back method-in fact I have several in the garage-one for donations, one for recycle, one for trash. For things I'm passing along, I either pass them or put them in the donation bags.
Tidying is good for the soul. Almost as good as yoga. Almost.
(Spoken by a man who is, in his natural state, a fucking slob.)
I here it is good for the soul. One day I may actually try it and see.
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