There’s something about lying on a cold concrete floor in a quiet house that inspires me to contemplate the course of my destiny.
In the twenty minutes between this morning’s fall and my figuring out how to pull myself upright, I surveyed the filthy floor, the cluttered shelves, and the wads of lint, and thought, Holy Cat-feathers, I’ve got to clean this basement.
I spewed a chain of childish curses at everyone who’s left their mark on the Holmes house, the ones who didn’t clean, the ones who dined-and-dashed, the ones whose forgotten boxes sit on the shelves and whose old suitcases now litter the garage. Children, spouses, workers, friends. Then the non-violent communication training kicked in, and I took responsibility for myself. I dragged my son’s old three-step stool toward me, braced it on the dryer, hoisted my skinny body to its first step and then hauled myself vertical.
In the process, while my life didn’t flash before my eyes, I did engage in a healthy dose of taking stock. The fall itself resulted from the wild twinge of my thrown degenerated disks, spasms which I expected after a day of cleaning and clutter-busting with Jenny Rosen, teacher, certified-organizer, Master of Special Ed and dog-walking-supervisor. Jenny and I became friends through the lady Jessica, Holmes house basement-dweller, artist, writer, and Island Girl. I met Jessica at Cafe Caliban, the now-defunct vegan coffee bar at the short-lived Prospero’s Uptown Bookstore & Cafe, owned and run by Will Leatham. Bringing this full-circle, Will and I became friends after I complained to the city, when he moved Prospero’s into a non-accessible building, a hundred years ago when complaining permeated my existence.
Thanks to Jenny, my kitchen shelves gleam and two bags of trash testify to the start of a new year free of stale cereal, broken containers, and the useless leftover pieces of long-forgotten projects. I’ve got homework assignments for today: Taking down the Christmas tree, straightening the keeping shelves, figuring out where the secretary which I’m inheriting from my in-laws will be situated. Between projects, I will sip hot tea, freshly brewed from a large collection from which I can easily select, now that all the stale, old boxes have been purged. In the quiet of the house, I’ll have plenty more time to think.
We are kindred spirits today~I am engaged in similar activity. Take time to rest in-between the endless chore of organizing and ‘thinking it all out.’
“Clutter is not just the stuff on the floor~it’s anything that stands between you and the life you want to be living, whether it’s in your home, your head, in your heart or on your lips.”
~Peter Walsh~
Love this guy.
Please take it easy and don’t overdo! Your clutter is not life threatening. I agree getting it gone is a wonderful goal, but it is not urgent enough to risk injury.
The New Year always seems a time to declutter, reorganize, and reorder priorities. I , like you, have been throwing out stale cereal and anything canned which expired over a year ago (a year is like my 5 second rule for frozen and canned foods). Apparently I have not, again, been abiding by my own (or much of anyone else’s) rules, as I read, while packing, the expiration date on a container of german gravy mix which I use regularly – dated 2004. Swear it still makes the best gravy, albeit that I have to pound a piece off the block of what was once the consistency of fine sand. All my cleaning is part of my upcoming move – to the 17th house as an adult. Always looking for a home in a man-made structure of wood, brick or stone . When will I ever learn? Probably why I have chosen (but hesitate to pay for) cremation. Hate the cold (as though I am going to feel it), and definitely do not want to own another piece of property (who does own your gravesite? – time to do a legal google on that one). Just wondering/wandering in response to your sharing. Hope all is well, and that all of us avoid falling of most kinds. Falling into your passion is OK though – keeps me going. Bye the bye, I considered for a few minutes today trying for a year of not passing judgment – a lot like not complaining when you get down to it. Then first thing this morning I tried a new kind of coffee given to me for Christmas, and after the 1st sip thought: “‘what fool would pay $20 a pound for this yucky stuff?”. Oops, my first judgment for the day, about a friend who loves me and knows how I love my coffee. Well, tomorrow is the 1st day of the year to follow. Might try again.