Magical De-Cluttering

Although it would be nice to just whip out my magic wand and zap about a hundred objects per room into oblivion, I haven’t perfected that method of de-cluttering yet.  I’m working on it.  In the meantime, I’m reading this book because I need help with housekeeping.  I’m sure recognizing that I have a problem is half the battle.

Sitting in the living room this morning enjoying my second (or maybe third – who counts) cup of coffee gave me a chance to look around with a critical eye.  I tried to be objective, and imagine how a stranger would view my collection of random things.

It might be a stretch for that person to believe I love, need, and use all this crap, or that it brings beauty to the atmosphere and joy to my heart.

Tess Whitehurst suggests several external clutter categories (paper, clothes, books, decorations, furniture, gifts, food, unfinished projects and broken things) but I think the decoration category is my biggest challenge.  I’m not ready to even think about my internal clutter yet.

In front of our living room fireplace there is a lovely stone shelf which I’m sure was bare when we moved in but has hardly seen the light of day since then.  It’s the perfect place to burn candles and put miscellaneous stuff that there’s no room for anywhere else.  It’s been looking more like a junk heap than even remotely decorative lately.

 

The book suggests starting small so this is where I decided to begin.  I got rid of my bowl full of rocks because I can’t remember whatever possessed me to have a bowl full of rocks in the first place.  Then it was easy to throw away a bunch of candles that were burned down to nothing or melted into ugly puddled blobs of wax.  Things that I couldn’t imagine parting with I moved somewhere else so that it looks like I threw them out.  I’m not telling you where they magically teleported themselves, but I will admit that I made several trips to other parts of the house and only one trip to the outside garbage bin.

I’m giving myself A for effort here.  It’s still a shelf load of junk, but it’s better organized.  I read to the end of the first chapter of this very helpful book only to learn that “clearing clutter is a lifetime pursuit”.  Perhaps the author has seen my house.  I wonder if I’ll live long enough to get to the rest of it so that my home will eventually become  “a powerful catalyst for personal transformation and manifestation.”  Huh.  I foresee a lot more trips to the black-bin or Good Will, or a colossal garage sale in my future.

But I’m going to completely ignore the book de-cluttering category.  The line has to be drawn somewhere and my books are sacred.  Even this one.  The good news is – the next chapter is about cleaning, and with all the de-cluttering still to do, I might never get to that part at all.

Beam Me Up

Always liked the idea of beaming myself somewhere and skipping the wait at the airport or the long hours cooped up in a car. I know getting there is supposed to be half the fun, but sometimes it actually isn’t.

Wishing for something is one thing, having it as a real possibility is another thing entirely. Teleportation is a scary concept, so I’m sure I’ll be one of the skeptical people who holds back and waits to see how it goes for all those adventurous types before trying it out myself.

Chances are good that I’ll be a strong advocate for wormholes as a viable alternative, and a safer mode of transportation. Taking a speed-of-light shortcut through space and time while keeping the traveller intact has a certain appeal over being disassembled and put back together. Jumpgates, portals, stargates – could we please try those things first?

All in all, it sounds like a whole new way to lose your luggage, never mind the various molecules that might go missing en route to your destination. Missing fat molecules I could deal with, but the rest of my bits and pieces I’m not so sure I want to risk being without. Call me pathetically old-fashioned, but I’m kind of happy with my present continuity of existence.

I don’t want to arrive all messed up in some strange place being told to pull myself together and having no clue how to do that. So go ahead and beam yourself halfway across the planet, work out all the beaming kinks and hitches, and hopefully by the time teleportation is safely perfected I’ll be too damn old to care where I am or how I got there.

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