Time to get real. Time to clean it up. It’s time for letting go.
If you know us in real life you know that there is a room in our house of which we do not speak. That room is where our shame resides, piled and teetering, mocking us every time someone ‘wants to look around.’
The office. The craft room. The black hole vortex of death. It’s where all important documents go to be disintegrated and where yarn goes to do the nasty and multiply. It’s bad.
We need passports and I can’t find the kids birth certificates and one kid is missing a social security card. We have put it off and now it’s bordering on too late. Today, as I tied a rope to my waist and notified next of kin before embarking on a solo trip into the abyss, I realized just how symbolic this ridiculous mess is of my life.
Half finished crochet projects, important papers lost, sentimental things crumpled and ruined from neglect. Other people’s stuff blocking the path, mouse crap at the bottom of boxes of tacky chotskies. Computers unplugged and stacked, filled with a life of pictures left unprinted, so important they are nearly forgotten. My promises to myself, empty baby books, incomplete journals, broken picture frames, blank canvases. Notebooks, oh, the notebooks. So. Many. Notebooks. A guitar I’ve never learned to play, oil paints with the seals unbroken, thank you cards and baby announcements unsent.
So, it’s bad. I get that. But, I know from spending an hour in there, that it’s just another in a long list of things I have avoided. Because it’s hard, I don’t know where to start, it’s such a mess it can never be made right, what’s the point, I don’t deserve it, I won’t keep it clean, I’ll just mess it up and my personal favorite, something that I’ve recently become present to… What if I meet my goal and I fail by falling. What if I’m not worth taking care of. It’s the same thing.
I have done this with nearly every important thing in my life. Writing, art, relationships, blogging, photography, health, gardening…
As I stuffed mail from 2012 into a bag, moved piles of paper from here to there, and bagged up 6 trash bags of yarn, I realized it’s not about the huge project; It’s about taking action. Any action. Doing. Moving. Letting the rest fall away and focusing on keeping momentum. Baby steps or as Anne Lamott says, bird by bird. The rest will follow. The emotional slag will fall away and reveal a well kept and cared for space, worthy of love and respect.
I’m committed to getting complete with the things that are actually important to me and letting everything else go.