I just found this post penned several weeks back, forgotten in drafts, and so with no further delay, here’s the train of thought that my intuitive voice had hoped to convey:
While awaiting our friends, Jill and Bob, I can be seen resting while gazing round my bedroom. Before this lengthy illness, cluttered cabinets made me crazy. Now, having had no energy to put things away for the longest time, I see one clutter after another in plain sight, making me want to leave the house and come home to find everything that’s not in its proper place has miraculously disappeared!
A couple of months ago, my dear friend, Shainie (who unlike me is a minimalist), happily offered to clean out several of my kitchen cabinets. With Shainie at the helm, the overwhelming nature of that task, long overdue, took no time, at all. As Shainie emptied each cabinet in record time—with Will on a step ladder handing items down—Shainie would hold each one up to me, my only responsibility being to say aloud ‘keep, save for the boys or donate (to a shelter for battered women and children’). Much to my surprise at this stage of my life, this pack rat has no fear of relieving our home of objects, many having been gifted to us by dear friends in thanks for enjoying long weekends spent relaxing in our well appointed guest room’s iron four posted, queen-sized bed with large private bathroom, no less, in hopes our loved ones would feel so comfortable as to feel eager to return more often than not.
Currently, we have a couple of large cardboard boxes filled with a variety of things tucked in corners of rooms—I’m going to ask Shainie to make her cheerful way through those, as well.
Though it’s highly likely that our home doesn’t look nearly as disorderly as it appears to me. a meticulous viewpoint persists within my mind’s eye, suggesting why my environment needs to match my sensitivity toward decorum as my walker and I go from room to room. I see this as a healthy change. Before now, I didn’t have the energy to care.
Annie
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