Look at how clean that is
I am again watching purging videos and listening to magic tidying words of encouragement, words of accomplishment, words of: ” I do, maybe you can?”
See, that is the hurdle.
In my head I know what should be done around here. I also know that in my head, I have already failed. Now, this is self-defeating. I am not stoops. What this is, is someone who knows thyself.
I have already allowed the continued debacle to debacle.
I have already FAILED.
Which kind of makes me laugh. I have a friend that says “FAIL” or “Dream Crush/er” when things turn sour at my hands.
God makes things look so clean
He’s so cool
I think of seasons
All the gorgeous flowers-gone
All the beautiful leaves-gone
All the sparkling snowflakes-gone
All the sunny blue skies-gone
God makes much more beautiful and useful things than I and He knows when to dispose of them. What is my problem?
I am chalking it up to a little bit of laziness and a little bit of schedule woe.
Of course, after an entirely too long day I just wanna get my elbows into a meck of stuff I need to sort through. Ya, right. On top of that cherry, I get REALLY entirely too bored going through stuff and long for more fun stuff to stuff my entirely too long elbows into. Ha Ha. That was funny. Entirely.
There again, (Canadian-wise again—A—Gain) I am a flop at all this. I, by all obviousness haveth overbooketh myselfeth. This is quarterly quartered by the lack of organization I am espousing. If organizing my home, my loverly abode, is a chore that gets put on the shelf like a self-help book on time management- you can only imagine my scheduling wrangle.
I am a kin to the flame that is home harmony.
I just need to want it reeeeeeeeeeeally bad. I want it, but just not reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally badly. Not yet.
The failure thing in my mind is a bit off-putting.
One, I’ve already failed, because the current situation and condition of my home.
Two, I think I will fail once I get going, because I get SO bored with the sorting and piling and sectioning and containing and tossing and donating and “Do I need this? Does it spark joy? Do I want this? Does anyone use this?” blah blah blah. It’s not one step. It’s many consecutive steps that isolate me in the world of cleaning up endlessly. I may have time one day but, not anymore time to get back to that crap for a…..two weeks, a half a year????? Let’s not kid ourselves. This whole organization thing is like a full-time job Plus-Plus. Plus-Plus means extra extra. I enjoy and try to regularly employ the Pomodoro Technique. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pomodoro_Technique
So it is like after 25-30 minutes I best stop sorting stuff, take a break and regroup. But I tend to press on believing that if I break momentum I will thus follow another trail of sweets that are sweeter! I am easily swayed to funner events. YES Funner.
By the by, I already spend waaaaay too much time on items. My day is full of items. Some I think I would never use again, but I have. Some I …..okay this is just a pointless paragraph so, I’m just going to put a .
Three, these people I watch, listen to or read of doing this transforming of their homes and lives are totally different than me. I mean, let’s face it. They are already where they wanna be or striving for unattainable clean. I wonder how they have so much time to devote to organization. I am different, because I do not want to devote much to the wiles of organization. These people may also like the lake. I would actually like to know the percentage–of the heavily structured housekeeper and lake lovers combo. I can’t spend too much time on drawer containers and plastic-ware storage solvers. I like freedom. I am not putting these people down. I am merely figuring out why I am not one of them. Could I become one of them? We will see a……two weeks, a half a year? from now.
Four, no one cares. BUT everyone cares! This is one of the more annoying tidbits of house cleaning and refining. No one wants to do the work, but everyone wants to know where their phone charger is or their fancy decorative duct tape with the purple and black spiders is. I am the Little Red Hen yo-yos.
But, I let everyone eat the bread. I’m notta B. C’mon. This is the classic case of no one wans to peek up. No one. So, there I am, whilst everyone else is having fun? Doing chores and crap. Whatta sham. I like to have fun. I am a fun-lover a lover of fun.
Five, guilt. I kind of was raised by this sweet, beguiling, yet petty little thing called Guilt. Guilt has a way of making me think that my ideas of what should be done with a certain something is a bad Bad BAD idea. Starving kids in China. Barefoot babes in Africa. Naked Nellies in the Bush. I don’t know. Just that how on earth could I dispose of such a costly or sentimental or necessary item? I don’t know how, obviously, because I don’t regularly get rid of said items. (Guilt is just my lit’le ol’ brain not my parentials or anything of that nonsense, they are lovely) Funny. Ironically, I could walk into your house and toss anything. I would find most things to be obsolete that you own. SO, it really is not the item to me or the thing, it is the meaning it has to me or for any of us–the meaning it has to ourself. Is that a word? Ourself. I guess it is now. We will keep it, because I keep most everything. Like a freakin’ weirdo. Well, not like garbage, I don’t keep big swig cups and empty Cheetos bags. (I suppose the word is YOURSELF.)
In closing, God wants me to move forward. Live today, not yesterday or tomorrow.
Not live for myself or for someone else, but to glorify Him.
Do I glorify God by not sharing?
Do I glorify God by keeping too much?
Do I glorify God by enshrining people or events?
Do I glorify God by being a good steward of what He has given me?
Do I care what God thinks of my disorganization?
Should I compare myself with others?
Should I do what God calls me to do?
Should I read Ecclesiastes?
Problems and a cardboard box full of junk isn’t one.