The Christmas decorations are coming down, and as I move through the house I take stock of the things that I’ve left in various states-- a closet that is overstuffed with out of season clothes, piles of sports equipment I am unsure if anyone still uses or needs, old sheets and towels that I have no reason for hanging on to, and that one junk drawer in the kitchen where I tend to toss things that have lingered too long on the counter and have no perceivable other home. It is time for a serious declutter, something that tends to happen this time of year.
So I start in my office. I turn on some music, take a look around, and immediately am reminded about what I love about this room. It is mine. In the whole house that I share with others, this is one small place that I have been able to claim as entirely my own. There have been times when others have coveted my cherished space, but I have outlasted their intrusions and built a quiet sanctuary to work.
I start with the paperwork that has piled up, needing to be sorted and trashed or filed. Invariably in these piles I find treasures—the odd photograph, a postcard that arrived at just the right moment, a hand made gift from one of the kids. Once the piles of paper have been sorted, I rearrange the corkboard that spans most of the wall behind my desk with my new finds so that it is filled with things that make my heart smile. Now as I sit to work and pause to linger on some thought, my sight line rests on something or other that touched my heart instead of something or other that needs to be done.
I’ve tackled my office. It is reaping rewards. Now can I do the same for the mud room? Challenge accepted.