It isn't a proper New Year's beginning unless I do at least one reorganizing or cleaning out project. This year the last two days before returning to work found me belatedly fired up to fine tune my desk top. (The real one, that is, not the virtual one.) I didn't change it much at all. I removed one storage container that I had pressed into service but didn't really want there anymore, a slant-front vegetable basket that instead held odds and ends: address book, rulers, calculators, book marks, random business cards that I thought I might need.
I still have something creatively pressed into service (a vintage toast rack that's now serving as a vertical file for sticky notes, note pad, address book, business cards, and book marks), but I like this make-do much better for now.
I also cleaned a few items off my ribbon board and moved everything else for a thorough dusting, the kind that I confess I just don't have gumption to do regularly. Now it feels not only pleasantly tweaked but very clean.
Not for long of course. Dust is indomitable. Which is one of the reasons it's so easy to talk myself out of too much removal effort, meaning any more than is necessary to avoid shame when visited.
But this is the annual Brave New Year. There's a solution for dust, too. We drafted a new cleaning plan! No more skimming by with the basics. We intend to have that truly clean feeling more of the time by dividing the house into zones of responsibility and deep cleaning a room every week or so. (Hey, life happens. We're not going to get crazily unrealistic.)
I also reorganized and improved the pantry. Now most of my flours are in proper storage containers. No more crumple-topped paper bags shoved into plastic bags to avoid the regional humidity. Rice, lentils, and nuts are in their own jars now, too, and all items are grouped better by kind. It's a recovering control freak's dream.
Then we hung things on our walls. There is fullness now where there was emptiness, intentionality where there was procrastination. We took a look at what we had on hand with new eyes and found things that would work. An old hat, a gift, a wrap, a collection--they all became wall jewelry.
The attack came late, but I was on fire. And loving it. This brief season when anything seems possible again is delightful. I fully expect that the endless grind will bring my management enthusiasm to an end for a while, so I savor the time when the urge to organize and beautify flares into action. Some seasons I'm doing good to keep up with life's demands and rest a little. Other seasons are beautifully empty enough to rebound me into action. I honor them all, for they all come in their time.
These are the good waves to ride, ones that roll toward beauty and satisfaction. I await the next lift, ready with my list of future projects.