I’m feeling the need for more space in my life, for more breathing room. I feel like, since the move in April and the wedding in October and the holidays, I was simply treading water and doing the bare minimum. Which is totally ok, and I’m glad I could let go enough to do that. But, in the meantime, projects spiraled out of control. My desk at home became a nightmare. My desk at work became an even bigger nightmare. I became really good at shoving things into boxes and cupboards and drawers to deal with “later.”
Well, it is now “later.” Even though it’s clichéd as a New Year’s ritual, there’s something comforting and soothing about starting a new year with a clean slate – about organizing and packing up and getting rid of and cleaning. Last night I cleaned my desk at home – and it feels like a big, happy sigh when I sit down to it now. It’s not minimalist, by any means, since I’m not a minimalist and I like my creature comforts. But the teetering stacks of paper are gone, along with the old empty envelopes, the piles of computer and camera cables, the old notes, the boxes of thank-you notes. What’s left? Room to breathe.
Well, it is now “later.” Even though it’s clichéd as a New Year’s ritual, there’s something comforting and soothing about starting a new year with a clean slate – about organizing and packing up and getting rid of and cleaning. Last night I cleaned my desk at home – and it feels like a big, happy sigh when I sit down to it now. It’s not minimalist, by any means, since I’m not a minimalist and I like my creature comforts. But the teetering stacks of paper are gone, along with the old empty envelopes, the piles of computer and camera cables, the old notes, the boxes of thank-you notes. What’s left? Room to breathe.
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