living small
March 13, 2016 § 5 Comments
I remember a time before googling was a verb that accounted for answers to last-minute homework assignments, housecleaning foibles, and comparison shopping. The early hours of an online environment of conversations folded into letters.
A time before friends were chosen like teams in gym class; waiting to be accepted and liked then placed in a hierarchy of belonging and popularity among a virtual clique.
There was the briefest moment when most of my online wonderings were messages given to friends, farther reaching than the span of my days.
Over the years, it has become a rabbit hole of squandered minutes and lost hours for which there is not time enough to gamble such loss.
My children are growing too quickly, my dreams demand more of my attention. I have come to a place where I must make my life smaller to live beyond the confines of my habits.
As the ground softens with spring and the trees blossom into a new season of life, I am promising myself a simpler schedule of play; a truer practice of mindfulness.
I’m whittling my online distractions to a more genuine opportunity for connection.
As so many stumble upon the wisdom of Marie Kondo’s elegant system of tidying, I’m considering a similar necessity for organizing my space online to nurture greater joy and purpose.
At present, I have put pen to paper, naming my virtual distractions; the places I log on and the people I follow to better identify my personal investment. The value of beauty and inspiration, insight and education beside emotional outlets of social opportunities.
It would seem simple, but I have found more complicated personal truths. Disingenuous relationships and excessive ideas too vast to be accessible.
They are the places I am passively present and absently inspired.
I have begun to save lost relationships in the same way others cling to old clothing with scraps of sentiment. I have hoarded creativity by neatly naming it into a system of possibility.
This week, in quieter minutes of intentional care and unhurried effort, I am tidying up my online spaces for a new intention of presence and authenticity.
perfectly disorganized
February 21, 2016 § 2 Comments
I was methodical in my organization as we packed our old home into storage for our move. Before anything could be neatly preserved with overly articulated labels, they were first sorted by necessity, keepsake, and nonsense. I took full advantage of a heightened consciousness of what we needed and loved, then quickly and painlessly dispensed with the excessive waste that had accumulated in dusty corners and holiday storage bins.
There were things we could not take with – a tiny ant penned by my daughter’s hand into a small dent on the stairway; a smiley face stubbornly swept into the clear varnish on a window sill; my son’s map of the world wallpapered to his old bedroom. The one that pulled hardest at all of our heartstrings was the growth chart inked against the kitchen door frame; hurried lines and proud dates made official by our children’s carefully printed names.
We briefly considered removing the wood and packing it for our move, but compromised over a thoughtfully detailed list of measurements to be transferred to a place of honor in our new home.
Recently, my daughter asked about this paper. Promising myself I would no longer procrastinate, I retrieved the list and congratulated myself on the industry of my thoughtful organization. It was just as it should be, neatly waiting precisely where I had stored it away.
I tucked the paper in a place just under my nose and then proceeded to lose it with record efficiency.
Today I retraced every step trying not to think of the ways I tend to shuffle miscellaneous papers into wastebasket storage with reckless insensitivity. I’ve laughed privately over the irony of my distress while apologizing in panicked disbelief to my children.
Tonight it occurs to me that there is something of a lesson in my loss that I might want to store someplace safe for the future.
ingredients & intentions
July 26, 2011 § 2 Comments
I am not a cook, but when ingredients meet inspiration in the lines of a recipe I find the process of preparing a meal therapeutic. Time focused on an act of love that nurtures the body seems to draw out my patience and feed my spirit. My greatest challenges lie in preparation; planning ahead and organizing materials.
Some time ago I purchased a recipe binder to preserve magazine clippings, shared recipes, and printed pages from favorite cooking sites. I tucked it in my kitchen drawer to keep handy and then buried it beneath well-loved recipes and good intentions, my organization lacking rhyme or reason.
Last week when the weather was too hot for outdoor endeavors, I sorted recipes in anticipation of busy school days ahead. Family favorites were given a place of priority, meals that stirred memories were dog-eared to revisit, and nestled between the familiar were new inspired recipes waiting for an opportunity.
Now that my recipes are catalogued I am eager to inventory my pantry for ingredients and intentions.
theory of evolution
January 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
We make resolutions with aspirations of evolution; good intentions for self-improvement propelled forcefully into a New Year. Today, armed with enthusiasm and a project I set forth to right my domestic wrongs. My foray into organization began in the kitchen. I shifted gadgets sorting them into logical, functional spaces. I then visited my wardrobe and began a new set of questions that centered on the odds that I might in fact ever wear garments largely intended for another life. Slowly and with great hesitation I approached my daily organizational tools – the folders, drawers, and boxes where I “sort” important information concerning my children. These, the most important documents in my home, were chaos. It was with resignation and a good deal of caffeine that I spread said documents across my dining room table and began a lengthy acknowledgment that I am, indeed a mess. In the stark light of day I came to see that I have been hiding what matters beneath clean countertops, inside tidy spaces.
My initial reaction to my hidden hindrance was to brew a cup of coffee, pick-up a new book, run an errand, and plan meals for the week ahead. It must be said that I rarely plan meals in advance and this became a clear indication that I was procrastinating. I could barely look at my disheveled table without wanting to take a nap; I physically and emotionally shut down to avoid the work required to properly sort the important from the insignificant. Hours later, with a deep sigh, I forced myself into a chair and began assigning titles and thereby locations to each document. Keepsake, receipt, garbage. I could have added a dozen categories to rationalize the importance of each item, but these three simple labels allowed me the focus and direction to simplify an overwhelming task.
This challenge began with a feeling and evolved into a moment of serenity that I will carry with me into the New Year. Each day I will remember to simplify, organize, and prioritize my world that I might live in a greater state of peace and productivity.
scribblechic 