I get an inordinate amount of joy from organizing my closets and drawers. Since retirement, I have gone through almost every inch of the house to declutter and simplify. I don’t hold each item to see if it sparks joy and there is nothing magical about my process. It’s really a diversion to keep me from what I should actually be doing – writing, promoting my book, researching family history, or the myriad household chores like folding laundry or washing dishes.
So on this stormy day while the rain lashes against the sliding glass doors, I empty all the drawers in my office and spread everything on the floor. I realize how many office supplies I have accumulated over the years and crammed into spaces, too busy to see what I already have. I realize what a sucker I am for office supplies when I browse the aisles at Staples. I love buying pens, mechanical pencils, notepads, lined and unlined paper and folders. Which explains the almost drawer full of post-it notes, a huge stack of index cards and a collection notebooks (small and large) stuffed in various drawers.
I sort and arrange and discard. I put like-minded objects together so I can find them more easily and vow not to buy anymore office supplies. This is the activity that sparks joy for me, creating order out of disorder. I can’t control what happens in Washington when our government seems to get crazier by the day. And I can’t control the course of my husband’s brain injury and can’t explain why he wakes at 5 a.m., wanting to get up.
But at least I can control where to put the erasers and glue sticks in the drawer and I can group all my blue Bic pens together, ready to write.