This was my desk this morning. This has been my desk, in general, my whole life. My floor of my room in my parents' house was a maze of stacks, the beautiful Chinese silk rug completely covered except for a narrow path to my stereo. Mentally, I'm a hoarder. It's fear-based. I have in another room ALL of my school work from pre-school through college organized in folders by grade and class in banker boxes.
I fear losing my past.
It's difficult to say, to write. My fingers tremble a bit at the realization.
It's never been so much that I'm worried about getting done what I need to get done. That takes care of itself, honestly. I get to it. It's that I hold on to the physicality of the chronology of my Life. I attach so much meaning to objects as placeholders in time.
It's time to change that. I'm currently working on some life lessons provided to me by my dad. The task I picked to focus on today relates to the well known lesson that if your desk is cluttered, so are you. So to set a new behavior, I needed to clean my desk. But not just clean it, meaning opening the drawers and sliding all the stacks into them. I needed to organize it, setting up new habits that don't rely on chronological order.
I needed to organize myself. So I did.
All has been filed appropriately and notes of info and to-do's have been consolidated in the notebook on the scanner to the left. And I even took previously hid stacks out of drawers and organized them too.
It's really just a matter of committing to the change, writing it down, telling somebody else about it. It works!