I have to laugh at myself. OK, I laugh at myself daily; it keeps me honest, humble, and real. However, this particular morning I was laughing at myself as a professional organizer. You see, I had just spent the morning working on my monthly newsletter, spouting sage advice for all you dear ones out there struggling with clutter. My newsletter flowed with great ideas and compassionate understanding. “Wow, I’m good!” I thought. Then, I went into my bedroom to get dressed.
The room was a complete disaster—unmade beds (at noon!), dirty clothes strewn on the floor next to abandoned cups and dishes, dog toys, bird seed and cage fluff only mildly contained in one area, multiple art projects capitalizing the table, used Sudoku games discarded by the bedside… in other words, a complete mess. Welcome to my world. After regrouping from my "fall from glory," I spent a quick five minutes bringing order back into my life: clothes in the hamper, beds made, sudoku recycled, dishes done, then dressed and ready for the day. (The art project is still on the table, but my daughter has plans to come back to it after lunch.) Balance restored, I am good again. I smile in a moment of pride.
I head to the windows to let the sun shine in on the glory that is my life... and am confronted with the wonky curtain rod with one end propped on the bookshelf (It’s been hanging in limbo like that for over a month). As if my confidence and credibility hung on that rod, my previous state of self-assurance evaporates.
Chances are you can relate to the following train of thought: “This should be easy enough to fix right now. Yes, but... I need to fetch the step stool. And move the dog bed blocking the way under the window. Oh, that reminds me that the dog bed cover needs to be washed, which means laundry, and do I even have time for that? There’s no point in putting the clean cover back on until the floor is vacuumed, and the vacuum's in the closet next to the pantry that needs sorting... and anyway, I can’t vacuum until the bird cage is cleaned, which is my daughter's chore. So, I can’t possibly fix the curtain rod until all the other things happen first...”
From competency to paralysis, in one frustrating thought stream: behold, the inner dialogue of the wise and profound Professional Organizer! It may be easy enough to deal with the one item out of place; it’s all the other things triggered by it that bog us down. We have good intentions, and we may even have cute little containers and color coded files. But Life still happens (24/7), bird fluff, dog beds, and all... this you can rely on!
Suddenly I saw the absurdity of it all. I fetched the footstool, pushed the dirty dog bed out of the way, and put up the rod, giggling as I recognized the beauty of my humanness. “Oh well, nobody’s perfect!” I say (a common phrase in our home). After all, I chose this profession because I am a recovering clutterer myself, with great empathy for people struggling with these issues. (More on my healing path to clutter competency in another essay)
True self-assurance is not contingent on whether a curtain rod is in place. Life is messy and meant for living! And truly, none of us are perfect. Sometimes I may get busy so that things like crooked drapery rods don't take top priority, knowing I’ll get to it sooner than later. Birds make messes and the table may be a creative jumble, but my daughter is learning responsibility and expressing herself. Our dogs are an integral part of our lives, pet gear and all. These are the things that matter to me. So what if the room gets out of control sometimes? I’ve learned how to restore order quickly--even if it's just getting ready for the next bit of life to come in. Is my advice as a professional organizer any less valid? Heck no. I'm actually a person who takes her own advice!
So, fellow clutterers unite! We are in this together. Organization isn’t a destination or a static state of being. We are on a journey, and I am so grateful we can travel it together.
