I pulled this mess from behind the door to the room, where it was keeping me from opening the door completely. It toppled over as I was photographing it, but truthfully it didn’t look much neater where it was. I’m following the Flylady rule of not pulling out more than I can put back in the time that I have.
How this is hard: I had a week off work unexpectedly and resolved to use the time to clean out my study so I can use it to write and work. Monday and Tuesday went by and I found myself doing other things that just seemed so important. Some were, and some certainly were not.
Resistance is a funny thing: It’s less a refusal than a kind of numbness, all the more lethal because it’s insidious. I didn’t wrestle with myself about decluttering – I just kinda sorta never got around to it. No drama, but the result is the same as a slow morphine drip: bury myself in trivial tasks and sudden emergencies until the day ends. And days can stretch into years.
I took the bull by the horns at 10:30 last night and set a timer. 15 minutes seemed like too much:
“I’m tired,” Stuck Me whined.
Accomplished Me knows how to handle this: “OK, how about 10 then? 5? 1? Can you declutter for 1 minute?”
One minute was too shameful even for me, so I chose 5 and went to work, just to break the ice for today’s attempt. I found an Apple Gift Card and cleared off a 1×1 section of desk.
“That’s one more 5-minute section than if you hadn’t done it,” Accomplished Me said. Even Stuck Me has to admit that if I had done 5 minutes even 3x a week over the past year the room would probably be pretty clean by now.
Another reward: much less resistance today. Feeling pretty good – let’s see how it goes with the pile in the photo. But first I’m going to vacuum the floor where it was, to give myself something tangible.