This has been a fairly surreal couple of days.
Yesterday, I got my hair cut--it's still mainly the same, only shorter for summer, and, I think, it's a bit more flirty (some have said "sassy").
I decided to take a pic of myself to share the new do with far-flung friends (it's up there in the right-hand corner of the blog). In doing so, I posted it to Facebook. When I did, I could then see it, very near to the old picture I've been using. As crazy as it may sound, it was really the first time I'd SEEN how much different I look today, than I did when that pic was taken.
I think the thing is that, for me, this journey has been lived second by second. And while the numbers in my dress size have reduced, in looking at myself in the mirror, I hadn't really noticed the changes. And, not one to love having my picture taken, it's not as if I've had gobs of evidence along the way to tell me the truth of things.
But there it was, in a way I couldn't deny. And what happened next? I had something akin to an anxiety attack. I couldn't breathe well. I paced like a caged animal. I called E and cried piteously. I felt like I wanted to climb out of my skin.
It didn't last terribly long (thank goodness!), although I'm still processing the changes I'm now seeing, and trying to get a grasp on what made me so anxious (the best I can do at the moment is say that in posting the new pic, I feel like I did a sort of "unveiling" of myself that I'd not done before, and that, for some reason, that felt huge and scary right then).
Since then, being committed to what is, as I am, I've changed my photo everywhere I know it to be (except my site--but that's coming), so that I can't either forget, deny where I am today, or pooh-pooh the immenseness of the journey I've been on and what I've accomplished to date.
And to make it even more "real" to me, I decided to compare, side by side, a photo taken of me this month last year, and the pic I snapped yesterday. Not that it's my nature, anyway, but truly, there's just no way to hide from the truth of things.
I think it's time to step more fully into who I've become, and in every respect where it makes sense, let go of who I was. I'm not longer hiding...and although still oddly a bit uncomfortable, I know it's good to say hello to THIS me.
The Self Care Salon that started in January was a smashing success! We all learned so much, connected deeply, and really wished that our time together wouldn't stop.
But when we finished the book we were reading (Take Time for Your Life), and the Salon came to an end, my friend Kathryn magically appeared as if on cue, to tell me about a book her biz partner, Cindy, had written, and that was being released at the very beginning of April.
I read it, fell in love, and a new Salon begins next week! The book we're reading is by Cindy Ratzlaff and Kathy Kinney, and is called Queen of Your Own Life. It's a lovely book about reclaiming yourself at midlife (although I think it's fabulous for women at any ages!).
I'd like to invite you to join us, if this kind of book is your cup of tea, and if you'd like to surround yourself with a small group of women committed to living really fabulous lives.
All the details are on my site, here!
Here's to claiming our beautiful and fabulously deserved crowns!!
I admit that I'm absolutely more excited about the Salon than the month of organizing... but just by a smidge.
It's been great fun putting together awesome interviews with organizing and productivity experts, and although the month has begun, more of them are planning on joining us. I'm so grateful that they feel passionately about helping people, and want to play with me in the Salon!
On tap so far:
Kathryn Rose on planning the social media journey, Amy Thill on time management, Laurie Mandato on organizing your closets and wardrobe, Jessica Reagan Salzman on organizing your finances, and Angie Mattson on organizing your spaces.
Awesome, awesome women.
I really hope you can join us. Registration is free, and by registering, you'll get the audio afterward to listen back to to give you even more support!
And here I am again, for the other bathroom. This is a smaller bath (half-bath, actually), so this time, it's just the medicine cabinet and under the sink.
Since this is so similar to the post about the last few days, I'll let the pics speak for themselves, and then I'll go write another/different post about what I learned about myself in doing the bathrooms.
Instead of posting about each one of these, I thought I'd do it across several, and post all at once. The spaces clearned, you'll notice, are also pretty organized, mostly, I suspect, because the organizational system that was in place works (when I actually use it).
So what we have here are
For one crazy moment, I thought about dumping ALL of it into the center of the bathroom to discover just how much stuff was being held in such a small room. But then I smartly realized that if I did that, I couldn't move in the space, and thought better of it ;) Having said that, it was a LOT of stuff. We (D and I) ended up with almost three tall kitchen bags full of expired meds and such. And don't even get me started on the mad frenzy we went through when I opened a tube I didn't recognize and found a broken mercury thermometer inside--after some of the mercury had fallen into the sink (but not down the drain!).
Some middle-process shots, and one of a helper:
The linen closet was the easiest/fastest part of this; it's one space I keep clearned and organized all the time. I always have attributed that to having worked in domestics at Bamburgers when I was in college. If I'm anal about anything, it's how my towels are folded ;) If you're wondering why there's an empty shelf, it's 'cause those towels were being washed when I took the snap.
After shots (med cab w/o doors--just didn't want you to think there ARE no doors ;))and, I realize as I look at the shower caddy, that it doesn't look any better than it did before I started. The key thing for me there is that the products that are in it are the ones we use, and those we don't use aren't:
I'm glad this is done; I'll tackle my bathroom tomorrow!
What in the world is up with me and drawers, huh? Maybe it's that there are so many of them, and they seem to really need the clearning, but I sure seem to be focusing on them. And, as I say about the 30 Day Projects in general, focused attention, even in small ways, for 30-ish days adds up to a lot of goodness by the end of the month ;)
So today it's my nightstand.
I was telling friends today that the pictures that always astonish me the most are those of the stuff dumped out. How that much stuff can fit in that little bit of space is really beyond me.
Today, though, for the first time, I had to fight the urge to organize as I clearned. The frustration that led to that? Gift certificates. BUNCHES of gift certificates that had been put in that drawer for safe keeping and so I'd remember where they were, but that had been forgotten--some for years. So I wanted to both figure out how to keep them better so that that wouldn't continue to happen, and, as you'll see by looking at the after pic, there's now so little in the drawer, that I'm wanting to have little baskets or something so put things in in a more organized fashion--I hate the way they're sliding around in the drawer.
But I clearned and (obviously) didn't organize. Next month is coming, and I'm excited to have my first project for 30 Days of Organizing!
This isn't something I've written about with any depth, and as I begin this post, I'm not sure how deeply I'm going to go now. But here's what started things: I was clearning, and found a Polaroid taken of my (then) BFF Erica and me on the occasion of her ring dance in the fall of '81. I was 17.
I took a snap of said Polaroid (which accounts for the crappy image) and here it is--I'm on the right.
The very first thing that hits me when I see pics of me as a teenager is that I was NOT fat. Tall? You bet. Big-boned? Absolutely. Healthy? Completely. Fat? Not even remotely.
In fact, on seeing this pic tonight, E said, "God, you were a HOTTIE." Yeah.. I was. Blonde, blue-eyed, tall, stacked, really smart, I could SING (seriously sing, I tell ya), and, as I remarked before, I was healthy.
Yet if you'd asked me back then, I'd have told you that the message I'd been given for about as long as I could remember was that I was fat and had to lose weight. Not just a few pounds, either, but a SIGNIFICANT amount of weight. That message came from my mother, and from my teachers at the exclusive prep school I attended. At the time of this photo, my mother had me doing Nutrisystem; 30 years later, I can still conjure the smell of the powdered scrambled egg yech I had to eat every morning.
I don't honestly know what any of them were thinking. Ok, that's not true. My mother was probably thinking that I was imperfect and reflecting less well on her than I could. But my teachers? I still don't get that one. But it sure pisses me off that none of them could see the truth of me, and that I believed their lies. I know my friend Leslie would tell a very similar story (same teachers, even!), and I guarantee there are countless women (and men) in the world today who were told similar things (maybe you, even?).
Not too very long ago, a good friend and his wife (and I believe a teacher or two) were convinced that their pre-teen daughter was fat. And they were trying to get her to lose weight without making her self-conscious. I had a near violent reaction (projection, I'm sure, but it prompted me to open my yap--something I wish someone had done for me when I was young). "Just leave her alone," I said. "Let her grow into herself." That's pretty much what they ended up doing (not because I said something), and she has, and continues to, grow into herself--not fat.
I know that parents mean well. I believe doctors do, too. They do the best they can with what they have, and they really often create more problems than they try to prevent--at least as it applies to overweight kids.
So from this pissed-off place, I beg you to leave your kids alone. They're people...not shrubs to prune and shape into some effed-up image of perfection. Teach them good eating habits. Find them activities they love and yearn to do. Be active with them. Then let them run and play and be who they are. And let their bodies grow naturally. If there's a genuine problem, you'll know soon enough. But please, don't create one where one simply doesn't exist.
On behalf of "fat" kids everywhere...thank you for reading this. :)
We have this awesome coffee table in our living room that I just adore. Part of what I thought would be perfect for us when we found it years ago was that it has two drawers. "Finally," I remember thinking, "a place to put the little things I always seem to need when sitting on the sofa, but never have handy!"
But you know the truth by now, right? Those drawers are (say it with me now) crap buckets.
This one is mine. I'm letting D handle his own (or not).
Another small clearning project that felt so good to have done. And another noticing that it's unreal how much crap can fit in such a finite amount of space. I mean, seriously. Just look at all that STUFF!
The final outcome still keeps handy the things I tend to actually use while sitting on the sofa--but nothing else, and certainly not two or three of certain things (egads...there were actually FOUR bottles of eye drops in there!).
Like lots of girlie-girls, I've had quite the collection of nail polish. Also like lots of girlie girls--I've not thrown any of it away, not even the colors that really didn't suit me but that couldn't be returned because I'd tried them.
Of course, the problem with keeping colors that don't suit is that they're NEVER suit, and over time, they thicken and become utterly unusable, anyway. Lesson: follow Amy's rule--anything that comes into the house that doesn't work for me has to either be returned or disposed of in some way just as soon as possible.
Over time, they'd really overflowed the side of the drawer I'd assigned for this stuff, and I knew I wanted to correct that.
This was a very speedy clearning project, but even this felt really great to do. :)
In yet another case of, "I got it, cause I thought it would be the perfect organizing tool, but it wasn't, but I didn't get rid of it," I found myself staring at four toiletry bags--all full of stuff.
Now, I need two. One really big one--so when I lead retreats or am otherwise away from home for days on end, I can take everything I need with me, and one significantly smaller one--so when I'm only away for a day or two, I don't have to schlepp the really big one.
But I had four and I won't bore you with why. And truly, they were bugging me because of the space they took up in my bathroom. But after the clearning (it's amazing, btw, how many small sizes of things I had that had expired--have you checked your stuff recently)? I have two. Two that work fabulously well for me, and that are currently stocked only with things I usually travel with. Two that are stashed out of sight and out of the way.
Here's to the ease of having exactly what I need (and ONLY that), ready for when I travel.
My BFF Dawn invited me to attend her workshop, Your Book: From Idea to Ink. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity, as my book has been really well-conceived, and 100% in my head. Also, as well as I know her, I've never had the opportunity to see Dawn in action in this context, and I was excited to experience her as my teacher.
We spent the day at the beautiful Cottage at Glenview Mansion in Rockville, MD. This cottage was built as a full-size playhouse for the daughter of a the Lyons--the family who lived in the mansion before it was acquired by the City of Rockville.
I was in love with it--and could have happily lived in it. I think, for most little girls, a playhouse is about the size of a shed. This had a sleeping porch (turned into a kitchen area), a great room, a sleeping loft, and a full-size bathroom (sans bathtub, but one would have easily fit!). It was gorgeous, and so was the day; both set the scene for a truly remarkable workshop.
Over our eight hours together, she took us through a process that, looking back on it, gently, and easily got me to pull out of my head so very much of what's been in there for the last year, and put it in a format that has me on track for newly inspired action, where, before, there was no action on the immediate horizon. There was a decidedly mastermind-ish quality to the event, too, and I loved that everyone shared openly with everyone else.
At every step, Dawn was knowledgeable, helpful, and 100% present. She was also incredibly comfortable--although this was her very first in-person workshop of this sort (something I knew, but I doubt anyone else would have ever guessed!).
So today was about clearning my mind. I didn't realize that it would be when I first stepped foot in the cottage this morning, but that's exactly what happened. And when Dawn asked what I'd gotten from the workshop, this, among other things, was what I shared with her. I loved that she smiled and pointed out that this just makes more of my brain available for the next part of my book journey--where before, all of what I was holding was really in the way of that happening.
On day 11, I wrote about the fab mention AssistU received on TODAY. And truly, that's what I've been dealing with for the last week. We've probably heard from more than 500 people, and we have replied to every single one of them individually. So, I could, in a smart-assed sort of way, say that I've clearned my inbox, and it wouldn't really be far off, but in reality, my team and I have just been really focused on taking exquisite care of the people who have sought us out.
And if I needed to look at it, this process has been super-positive in helping me remain incredibly clear on our admissions process, and the standards we have for those we accept into our program. I remain committed to my model of screening tightly on the front end, so that we have few people failing on the back end. Reviewed and clearned, I am committed in a renewed way to the policy and standard that allows us to make that happen.
Today, we went to lunch in a restaurant where, at this time last year, I literally couldn't wedge my body into a booth.
Today, I had to scootch forward, sitting away from the back of the booth, so that I could be close enough to the table to eat from it. The table is fixed in it's location--we couldn't move it closer, so I had to move myself.
This picture, odd though it is, shows the table (that's the brown thing), and the rest of it is the empty space between the table and me. I only had my hands to measure with, but it was about 9" of space.
There's an absolute joy to fitting in spaces where I didn't before. Just sayin'
I have four hard drives--three of them external. Each of those is used for something specific, and one of them houses all my personal stuff. Today I clearned it of stuff that has no business anywhere near me anymore, and boy--it feels great.
While I know how great it feels once something is clearned, I never actually would have guessed that removing directories, and files (some docs, but mostly pics) would leave me feeling so empowered and energized!
Clearning consistently teaches me that less of everything is, for me, incredibly beautiful.
You know how people say, "If you want to bring something new into your life, clean out a drawer?" And how they say, "Be careful what you wish for, 'cause you might get it?" Yeah....I'm here to testify about how right on it all is.
Yesterday morning, at 945a, I posted this to Facebook:
At 10a, I posted about yesterday's clearning--the pics and music on my Blackberry.
And immediately after that, the calls began. I guess with all this clearning, and with a wish as big as the one I posted on FB, something was BOUND to happen, huh?
The calls were from people who wanted to learn more about how my company trains Virtual Assistants, and how they can get trained. And there were gobs and gobs of calls. And then email. Gobs of that, too, I tell ya.
At first, we had no idea why there was such a spike in our traffic. It was so great that the host of our online audios had to get in touch to let us know that our bandwidth was being exceeded. Such a big slice of awesomeness the problems were to me.And then I learned that on TODAY, during the Money 911 segment, author David Bach had mentioned us as the place to go to learn about becoming a VA. The riddle had been solved, but there was still the issue of dealing with all those people. And of all the weeks, my Enrollment Advisor wasn't around to handle any of it.
It's totally cool, and I'm grateful for the publicity and the number of people who we're now tripping over ourselves to educate and serve.
But during this time? I've not clearned another thing. I think if I did, my head would explode. Today was a day to enjoy the already clearned out spaces, and the manifestations that have come because of this path I'm on.
I'm pretty sure that's enjoying those spaces is a piece of the clearning process I'd forgotten to mention. So let it be said now. Cause truly--they're absolutely worthy of enjoyment and celebration!
Before surgery, I took a LOT of meds. I was on eight prescription meds for my diabetes alone. And then there were other things. So our medicine cabinet (the cabinet where meds live, rather than that thing hanging in the bathroom over the sink that couldn't have stored 1/4 of what I needed) has been stuffed to the gills for a really LONG time.
Post surgery, I immediately went from eight diabetes meds to one. You can imagine how my medicine cabinet needs have changed. But I never really got around to clearning it out. I think I was so surprised (delighted, mind you, but surprised, nonetheless) that I thought I should keep it as is for a time...just in case.
Today I said goodbye to all the RXs, plus a bunch of other things that helped me manage problems I no longer seem to have.
Note: The stuff in the cabinet didn't result in the can being full--just wanted to share that there wasn't THAT much stuff!
And while there's still a healthy amount of stuff in the cabinet, the vast majority of it is homeopathic, or essential oils for blends I make. I'd say that mayyyyyybe 1/4 of it is actually meds--mostly OTC, and for things that lots of us experience only very occasionally.
Somewhere along the way, I decided that another fabulous way to optimize space was by using those over-the-door hook thingies. When I started 31DoC, I realized that there was, on my bedroom door alone, THREE such contraptions, with a total of fifteen hooks with stuff hanging off the front (first pic) and back (second pic). Even so, you can see that I managed to use the TOP of the door as an organizational space, too, so that's why there's so much stuff:
I'm not amazed by what's there, but I'm going to tell on myself for a reason. Hanging on the door was:
The learning? It's two fold. First, no one should have so much stuff that she forgets what she has. If I remember nothing else from this month, I want that to be what I walk away with. That, and some seriously clearned spaces.
Second, I need to watch my words. You see...when I said in Wednesday's post that I only have one purse, I wasn't (obviously) telling the truth. I didn't mean to lie...but in a semi-Vegas sort of way, what hangs behind the door stays behind the door, and I forgot about them. In actuality, there are seventeen. Fifteen of which are no longer "me" at all, and maybe never were. So now, after clearning, I have TWO purses. The one I mentioned Wednesday, and a sweet little black convertible clutch.
Here's what stayed after clearning:
And here's the same door, sans some hooks and a lot of stuff. What I like best about it is that I have nothing hanging on the front of the door now. Oh, and that I can, if I want to, actually close the door.
Note: Not in the pic but kept are the sweater (taken to the cleaners), one of the winter scarves (in a drawer with matching gloves), and all of the pretty scarves (hanging in my closet and which I look forward to wearing now that I have a neck and all). On the door: the hat, two totes, the clutch, and the briefcase.
Step baskets, if you've never heard of them, are those glorious things you put at the bottom (or top!) of your stairs, and fill with things that need to go up (or down!) so that you don't have to schlep them, one at a time, up or down the stairs--instead, you schlep the basket. Brilliant, they are.
In our apartment, we have no stairs. But these things sit underneath our coffee table and are meant to provide us the same ease. But what they end up being is...crap buckets. It's true.
One of them isn't even designed to be used the way we're using it (that's the taller one on the right). That's supposed to be a place to hold laptops and cords and such. But we fill it with stuff we ultimately mean to take to other rooms to put away.
But as I learned, stuff goes in, and doesn't ever move. I guess, at some point, these got filled up, and then we stopped putting more stuff in them (I mean, where could it go?), and probably started picking things up and putting them away, one at a time. In other words, the old-fashioned way....before step baskets, and crap buckets.
D isn't home, so I haven't yet consulted with him about getting rid of the crap buckets entirely, and committing to putting things away as we have them to put away. So in the meantime, I've clearned them. We can deal with that bigger decision next month when it's time to organize.
Here's what was in them:
For the record, that's:
For what it's worth, here's what I kept:
Of all of it, what's most treasured, oddly enough, is the Starbucks booklet. Thought I'd throw that in to tell you something slightly odd about me. Not sure what it says, exactly, but...there it is--me, exposed.
And here they are, clearned:
Yep -- they're empty, too. As a good stair basket should be when things are put away.
I'm behind in my posting, because I was out of the office for a couple of days. But I'll be caught up by the time I'm done here today.
On day three, which was Wednesday, I clearned my purse. Yes; it's true, I have but one. And I now carry it everywhere--even carry my laptop in it (which is part of why I bought it). Unfortunately, I don't have pictures of what was clearned out, or before and after pics of the inside, because I think of that as fairly private space. But let me tell you--it's clearn. ;)
And the learning? Glad you asked. It's what I suspected before I started carrying a purse (which really has been a very short time). And that is that they are buckets for crap. I'd even asked friends what they carry before I bought mine, because I was trying to decide exactly what sort of bag I needed and wanted. And, by-and-large, they carry crap. Chicks carry everything under the sun--even things they may only possibly need under the most dire circumstances known to man. You know--once-in-a-lifetime things. Things MacGyver might have wanted access to. Things no one would need if she groomed herself at home. Or things one might need once a month, but not the other 300-ish days of the year.
The only women I think who legitimately have a right to carry crap buckets are moms of small children. They need crap. The rest of us? Not so much. Purse clearning is gooooood.
Here's to less crap slung over our shoulders... clearn out the purses!
In reality, who KNEW that this thing was holding so much (even more learning!)? That's 11 magazines and ten books I took OUT of it!
But now it's calm and pretty and clearned. Ahhhh.... :)
Interestingly enough, I'm still wide awake. :::sigh::::
When I wrote the copy for the 31DoC site, and mentioned that the size or magnitude of the acts of clearning didn't matter, I needed to give examples. The first "small" example that came to mind did so because I was sitting at my desk, and my eyes had fallen on it while I was thinking.
"Aha!" I thought. "The perfect small clearning project!"
And so I wrote about how a simple project could be the clearning out of one's pencil holder.
Getting up this morning on the first of the 31 days, I decided to tackle that very thing. You see, back when I had originally clearned my office, I'd gone through it once, but apparently didn't get the lesson--because since then, I'd put far too many things in it, convinced I might need them at some point (a selection of highlighters, for example, rather than just one). And so I needed to do it again, this time really being rigorous with myself and only leaving in there the things I know I use, just about every day.
So that's what I did. I dumped it all out, sorted through the things, figured out what needed to go, put them in my box of supplies in my closet (most of them are new--not exactly what I want to throw away), and put everything back in.
Not including the picture taking (which I'm going to rethink because it can be time consuming), the whole shebang took ten minutes. Eazy-peazy.
And the learning in the clearning?
Given that I'd just done this a few weeks ago, and I'd reverted back to putting way more in the space than I needed, I had to take a look at why that would be. The largest part of it is that old habits die hard. I'm used to shoving everything into a space that I could possibly need or want. And that will take time to change. But as I tell my coaching clients, we pay attention to what really matters to us. And I surely didn't pay attention to keeping the pencil holder clearned. Yet, I have to say that having it clearned felt really good, and I love that feeling. So I'm just going to sit with that dichotomy for a bit, and see which really is, as a practical matter, more important to me: having an overfilled container that puts everything I could possibly need within reach, or an appropriately filled container that puts most of what I need within reach.
Welcome to clearning! :)
Last November, I wrote about participating in TWLoHA day (To Write Love on Her Arms) during 30 Days of Thanks month. TWLoHA day is a day of solidarity, where people like me write the word "love" on our arms in order to support, and get a conversation started, with people about TWLoHA's mission:
"Presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depressions, addiction, self-injury and suicide. TWLoHA exists to encourage, inform, inspire, and also to invest directly into treatment and recovery."
I thought at the time that there was just one day each year when people wrote love on their arms in support, but I was mistaken; yesterday and today are TWLoHA days, too.
And I am full in. Join me?
As you know, I was clearning all weekend. And when you clearn, you make room for new wonderful things to show up. You also sometimes make room for things you would rather not have show up to show up.
I thought I'd run into all of that I was going to, and then, yesterday morning, around 1030a, I got an IM from my fabulous VA, Marie. It read: “I have some news. Can we talk this morning?”
I was on the phone with Dawn at the time, but excused myself immediately and called Marie. I had a feeling I knew what she was going to tell me, and whether I was right or wrong, she’d never sent an IM like that before, and I needed to find out what it was about.
I could tell by her voice that she needed to tell me something, and that it wasn’t easy for her. And then she said it. “Hey, I took a job offer this morning.”
All the blood rushed to my ears, and I tried to be very present as she explained her need to do something different in her career, and about the job she’d accepted, and that she’d be moving into that role, full time, in two weeks, but would be available to me beyond that if I needed her to help with the transition to someone new. Obviously I heard it all, but it was hard.
I heard myself being really gracious and saying all the right things. But given that we’ve been together for more than a decade, I actually felt a bit numb, and the small child that lives inside me was screaming really loudly.
For me, it’s hard to picture my work without her as my right hand. And so it’s hard to let her go. But the loving act? Letting her go without trying to talk her out of her decision, or downright begging her to stay. And trust me…I want to beg her.
For the past 13 years, I’ve had a lot of staff and volunteers come and go, and I’ve always believed and trusted that they knew best what they needed…and so doing the loving thing and letting go, while often inconvenient (timing wise) wasn’t difficult.
But I wasn’t ready on any level for this.
And today… a full 24 hours later, as I sat at Panera trying to draft an “ad” to help me find the person who would replace her, I cried. And I thought about the fact that I didn’t try to convince her to stay. And I wondered if that, in fact, was the most loving thing to do. I mean, wouldn’t it be, I thought, equally if not more loving to fight to have her stay? To show her through that that she’s incredibly valuable to me and I don’t want to lose her? To ask her what I could possibly do to make things different for her so that she would want to continue to run her own business, and, as part of that, continue to work with me…wouldn’t that be loving? I’d do that for an employee who was considering another offer. I’d do that for a lover who thought it might be time to move on. So why not with Marie in this context?
As I left Panera those were the thoughts swirling around me. And even as they were, my wise self knew the answer: that the most loving thing really is to trust that she knows herself and what’s best for her, and to let her go on to the next part of her journey.
And so that’s what I’m doing. Today, tomorrow, maybe for the rest of this week.
I've spent the better part of the weekend clearning my office. You’ll remember that I wrote about clearning—a word I made up that means to clean and clear, and learn (thanks, Amy!) during the process.
So it’s not as easy as organizing , or as easy as cleaning , or as easy as getting rid of old crap. It’s a deeper experience.
And for me, there’s really nothing that’s ever been brought into my office that didn’t have meaning--much of it has been gifted to me over the years, or collected during fabulous trips with people I love. So going through it and making decisions about what to keep and what would be going has been really time consuming, and as energetically fueling as it has been draining..
Along the way I’ve found interesting things. Like quotations I jotted down years ago. Like wishes I made a decade ago that I realized have come true. Like things I didn’t even remember having or from where they came (go figure).
As I’ve gone along, even making hard decisions to remove things that were gifts from loved ones, I’ve started feeling lighter somehow. I’m even typing more easily. Sounds odd, I’m sure, but it’s true.
And then I got to the Brian Andreas print. THE Brian Andreas print. Although I've been a fan of his for a very long time, when I got this print, I knew none of his work would ever mean more to me. It had been a gift to me from someone who had loved me deeply and purely. Though our relationship has had to morph over the years as we and our lives have changed, I never ever believed the depth of love had changed. And then a few months ago, the giver of the print showed me clearly that it had.
When I stood looking at the print tonight, I realized I’d been hanging onto it because I hadn’t really been able to take that in. I hadn’t made peace with the reality of things. I was holding out hope that things could be repaired. That the decision he’d made could be undone. That the love that was still is.
And the truth? A relationship with a rare person who genuinely saw me and knew me is over. Because of my history, losing that kind of connection is gut wrenching. Truly, it's like a death I never saw coming. So to realize it's over is quite the lesson to learn in the midst of going through stuff in an office. Apparently that’s the kind of “learning” that can happen in clearning.
So I ripped it up. Buh-bye print. A symbolic ending for me. Very necessary. As were the hot tears that followed.
Almost as soon as the tears stopped and I'd stepped back into my office to continue my clearning journey, I found something else from the same person. It was something he'd written to me a few years ago when I was questioning myself and what I offered those close to me. He'd written:"I choose you always...because of all the things you are and all the potential of what you can be."
I sat right down on the floor and cried again as I ripped that note into pieces, too. On some level, it felt like a cruel joke to make me come face to face with ALL of this at once. And then I realized that it was actually a kindness.
Voices of my wise teachers flooded over me--especially Jennifer's and Peter's. And then E added his own brand of genius when he gently said, “Some of our past is to be embraced and carried with us. Other parts of the past need to be discarded so that we can grow in the present and the future.”
Goodbye R. Goodbye weight. Goodbye anything holding me down or back. Hello to more of every possible good thing.
So I started to look for an answer. Countless Google searches phrases that seemed to describe what I was experiencing later, and finally I landed on a possibility in a word I'd never heard before: phenylalanine. For you and me? That's aspartame. And it was in so very much of what I was eating and drinking.
As an experiment, I cut out all diet products--diet coke, sugar-free gum and candy, Equal, most non-fat yogurt--everything. If it mentioned phenylalanine on the label I avoided it like the plague. And the out-of-controlness stopped.
My doctor was skeptical. Blood work didn't show that I had phenylketonuria. Or anything else. I also didn't have any symptoms ever "officially" reported or documents about phenylalanine sensitivity. She was perplexed.
Ok -- so if it wasn't that, I was going back to to my Diet Coke with lime. And yeah...you know what happened.
So I stopped again. And the problem stopped.
All in my head? Was hanging it on phenylalanine sensitivity enough to make whatever it actually was stop? Maybe I'm powerful beyond measure. All I know for sure is that when I avoid it, I'm fine. How that happens doesn't matter much to me.
I decided to write about this because I was just realizing that it's been just over a year since I had my very last Diet Coke--also the last phenylalanine I've had. Yay me!!! And while being diabetic without diet stuff is really limiting, I've done it. And I've survived. Quite nicely, I must say.
Today, I'm recommitting to taking care of myself in this particular way--even when it's hard, and even when I think that the best-tasting thing on the planet would be a Diet Coke with lime (which is actually fairly often).
Clearning...not a typo, but a word I created by combining "clearing" and "cleaning" to create a new word to describe that thing we all do when we get rid of crap we no longer need, after which we feel so amazingly good.
Whenever I've read/heard about organizing, I always hear about "cleaning" out drawers and closets and such to make the space for new wonderful things (never mind just getting rid of the crap we amass over time that stops serving us). To me, "clearing" makes more sense, as in clearing the space, and clearing the energy. And because there *is* cleaning that happens, too, yeah...clearning.
Recently, in my consultation about time and space management with Amy Thill, I learned that my bad (my word for it--and from my perspective, simply descriptive, rather than judgmental) office habit is in bringing useful things in, finding them less useful than I imagined, and never getting rid of them. You can read a post about it, here.
This weekend, amid movies and shopping, I realized I do that with all sorts of other stuff like hair-care products and do-dads (barrettes, head bands, hats, scarfs), travel-related items (luggage tags, travel-sized bottles, jewelry cases), socks, underwear...oodles of things.
So today, stuck with a headache from the moment I woke up, I decided that clearning would be the thing to do (rather than something more adventurous or strenuous).
Three of the six drawers in my dresser are empty now, as is half of my medicine cabinet, and half the etagere in my bathroom. Good Will gets two more bags of stuff, and there are three for the trash man.
This coming Friday, during a Virtual Retreat day I'll be facilitating for one of my Mastermind Groups, I'll be clearning my office. Can't wait!
Two of the most amazing things to me following surgery were that I was never hungry, and never thirsty. And while I've learned to eat on a schedule, I haven't yet figured out how to drink on one.
It's complicated because I can't drink and eat at the same time, and I have to stop drinking for a bit before I eat, and can't drink for a bit after I eat, so planning the drinking becomes a real art--because scheduling doesn't work so well.
I *think* I could nail it, because I've been so very cold this winter and I've managed to drink a LOT of hot tea. But there's a problem with that, too--despite having far less caffeine than coffee or sodas, it's still dehydrating. And since it's really the only thing I drink, I'm finding that, by evening, I have a whopper of a headache.
I'm sure it's dehydration.
So I'm going to very consciously work on correcting this. Not because drinking is so fun and I want to do more of it, but because I hate headaches, *and* staying hydrated is very important.
Desiderata
by Max Ehrmann
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
I didn't get to post this yesterday, and decided to go ahead and do it. Because it was a wish (a prayer) actually made in person in a space designed for it, on the spot (as opposed to a virtual wish I made and then wrote about).
I was in the city, and it was a simply gorgeous day. Cold, clear, crisp...and no wind. A good thing, that was. It made it the perfect day for exploring, and so we did exactly that.
One of the places we stopped was St. Patrick's Cathedral. There were tons of people visiting, so we walked forward a bit and sat in a pew...just absorbing the grace that gently covered everything and everyone. It was magical.
And then, as I love to do, I lit a candle, and said my prayer for good things for every last one of us. I know God was listening. In that space, how could he have done anything else?
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