Coming Out of the Closet Bag & Box…#9
Another great big thank you to my client who has so generously agreed to share her journey to organization with the world. I hope this group of blogs enlightens and inspires you to take a different look at the clutter in your life, and know that there is a clear space on the other side of the overwhelm.
Enjoy! –Miriam
b-o-n-u-s
The sound of the shredder greeted me as I entered the house. My shredder, in the hands of none other than my husband. The man who had resisted my every effort to throw anything out, who retains 15-year-old packing peanuts and voices the occasional suspicion that my organizational efforts smack of personal vendetta.
I approached him slowly, as you would a woodland creature stumbled upon in a woody clearing, fearful that I was perhaps witnessing some kind of mental break and would have to coax him slowly to the car and the nearest emergency room. “What are you doing?” I whispered. “Are you cleaning?” I was literally dazzled by his smile as he turned from the shredder to look at me. “Shhhhhhh,” he replied, very seriously. “You’ll make it go away!”
I tiptoed out of the kitchen to face my own task of the evening: consolidating the kids’ school pictures. In the process I tore my bedroom apart, began sorting negatives from the late 1990s and, finally, fell asleep to the validating hum of the shredder.
When I awoke I ran to the other side of the house to witness what was surely going to be a complete transformation of my husband’s desk area. And, of course, while I could tell that a small dent had been made there was still so much ground to cover. My heart sank. This entire process feels so incredibly overwhelming. And at times it seems like it has pit our core sensibilities, mine and my husband’s, against each other and our relationship. All I wanted to do was scream “Why isn’t this done yet?! What is the problem?! What is YOUR problem?!”
But it’s not, ever, YOUR problem. I’m right in the middle of it all, initiating chaos, enabling disorder, distracted and distraught.
And, truly, little by little, the transformations are becoming sustainable and the aspects of organizing that felt too much like a passing lark or environmental experiment are beginning to bear fruit. My living room is neat and while it can fall apart in a matter of twenty minutes, it’s so much easier to pick up: I know where everything belongs and IT MAKES SENSE. The play room’s floor is clearing and staying clear. The kids know where their stuff belongs — they retrieve their things and return their things with pride in their growing responsibilities.
So, when viewed in that light, the stuff that’s been unsurfaced, alongside the old bills, frayed coloring books and dead media, the stuff that we as a family have to sort through in order to make all this work bring us together and not tear us apart, is as germane to the process as knowing the way to the recycling bin. And, in a way, it’s just an added bonus.
