A couple weeks ago, this guy named Jim left me a nice message about needing help with his iPhone. (Last fall I tried to start a little business helping people with their Apple devices, which is something I love to do for all my friends. But I only got two calls in a couple months, and they were from people about 30 miles away, so I decided not to do it.)
His message was so nice. He said he was 55 and had switched jobs and had to get an iPhone to log into work but that then he got his old job back and didn’t need the iPhone anymore but still figured he better learn how to use it.
I thought it was sweet that a guy could be humble enough to actually ask for help.
But I didn’t call him back for six days.
And all those days, I felt the weight of not calling him back. It nagged at me. It stifled me from undertaking other activities. It made me feel congested. It brought up anxiety about all the other undone stuff my life is filled with: not calling my aunt, not calling two cousins. Not emailing a friend. How I’m still not volunteering anywhere. All the dust on the TVs and baseboard ledges going undusted. All the dishes that always have to be done.
The problem with the weight of the undone is that life is never going to stop needing doing. So, a certain understanding of this fact of life is helpful. It’s never going to get all tied up neat and finished. Never.
But, still, (of course) it totally helps when I do something that’s been nagging at me: when I stop procrastinating.
We have a nice big closet in a guest room that I use for sheets, quilts, pillows, and other storage. And said closet has been a real mess for several months, with no room for anything. Meanwhile, my office, a small room, has been unusable because I haven’t put away some foam bedding I used for a guest a few weeks ago. And that bedding needed to go in the closet.
So, I set the timer (I now use an Apple watch which I absolutely love for its stopwatch, timer, and alarms) for my regular eight minutes and dove into the closet. (I usually set the timer for only eight minutes because knowing I only have to do something for eight minutes lowers my resistance to starting. And, by the time the alarm goes off, I’m usually into the project, and want to keep going. Magic!)
Right away I had to start making decisions about what should go where, which is brutal for me (decision making). But I didn’t try for perfect organization: not all the pillows are on the same shelf (I can fine tune it later). I got some suitcases together in one corner, along with a roll of carpet, and moved a bunch of stuff off the floor and onto shelves. I found some wire hangers in there that I hate and a knit blanket I haven’t used for five years, and put them in a throw away/give away pile. Then I had room to take four extra pillows that have been in the corner of my bedroom for several months (don’t ask why), and put them away in the closet. By then, the relative order I’d created fueled me to tackle the sheets of foam bedding in the office. I rolled them up and tied them with ribbon left over from Christmas, and stood them up in the closet. Yes!
So, now the bedroom was feeling much better, the closet felt great, and BONUS, my office was useable!
Meanwhile, I’ve always disliked the way my office desk was situated, so I don’t sit at it very often, which is no good for a writer. So I moved it the way I felt like I’d like it: I put it at an angle that no decorator would ever recommend, but now I can both see the door (good feng shui) and out the window.
And here I sit this morning, writing this. Which feels good.
There are dishes in the sink and from this great new desk position, I can clearly see a layer of dust on the shelves across the small room and that the windows are dirty.
But I’m writing this, it feels good, and I have a free feeling from the new order in the bedroom, the closet, and this office.
Score 1 for the home team!
(Oh and about Jim. We’ve had the first session and it went really well. Luckily, my delayed response didn’t kill his decision to try some tech tutoring!)
