I am historically, definitively, categorically messy. It is something so deeply imprinted in my identity I don’t remember a time that I could see the floor of my domicile for longer than a three day stretch. If you asked people around me to pick 15 words to describe me, this word would probably come up.
I’m messier than most people, too. I’m not talking a little untidy. It’s kind of hard to explain, I think, unless you have lived with me or happened to stumble upon my living space before I’ve madly shoved piles around, you might not have the whole picture. I’m a few life turns away from being a news story in the event of my accidental and untimely death, with the hazmat team coming to clear out my house and finding terrible rotting piles of old magazines and kazoos or whatever the collector obsesses about. I try to steer my life away from that, but I’m aware that my level of disorganization could result in such a scene.
Local designer found dead amidst piles of fat quarters and decorative papers
What my level of disorganization has currently prevented me from is enjoying a daily flow of creativity in my home, it has caused me huge anxiety when I want to invite friends over for chatting or dinner. So I have decided to face and attack this issue this year with as much force as I can. I spent the last week chipping away at the piles I’ve made over the years, and it is truly a soul draining, energy sapping process. But I did make progress, and it is heartening.
This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to solve this, it may not be the last. I look at it like losing weight, slow accumulated daily changes need to be made before the goal can be reached. I have identified my strengths. I can organize a drawer really well, but not a house. Which makes sense, because I can estimate lengths in millimeters, but not so much in yards.
I’m not looking for a model home level of clean, but I do want to be able to vaccuum unencumbered by piles of things on the floor. I want to be able to walk right through a room without stepping over things. And work surfaces need to exist. Mostly it will just be lots of filing and throwing away and making decisions.
Changing something that is so deeply rooted in my person over the years, retraining my mind to see my living situation with new eyes, and my heart to feel differently about the material world, all this will be difficult. It’s different than losing weight because I have not always been heavy, but I’ve always been messy. Convincing myself and others that I can change will be a challenge. I can’t wait to be on the other side of it.