Digging Out

The much anticipated blizzard howled through last night. I was (thankfully) barely inconvenienced by it. With no flight to catch, a properly functioning furnace and plenty of food in the house, last evening was virtually stress free for me. While, I am well aware others had a more difficult time, I am grateful that all I had to do was wait for the storm to pass.

The morning light revealed the storm's wind had done a wonderful job of insuring an uneven distribution of the snow. There were numerous dunes and drifts lounging about the property. Two of the larger ones were crosswise of the most frequently used entrance/exit points of my house. So, at 7:00 a.m., the process of digging out began.

In spite of all the whizz-bang power tools available for snow removal, I sill prefer the old fashioned shovel for "close" work. With drifting snow up to my front door, I began from inside the house, methodically pushing and clearing the stuff until I finally made it to the sidewalk. A few steps into the work, it became quite apparent that this excavating would take a bit longer than usual. I slowed my pace, and soon had a strategy -- take a few inches "off the top"; repeat; repeat; repeat; repeat; repeat again, until the sidewalk appeared. Then, take a step forward and begin the process again. Fortunately, I only have a porch, and two relatively short sidewalks, so the entire procedure was completed in a bit over ninety minutes.

Midway through this morning's project, I began to think about the ways in which I've felt "buried" over the past several months -- too many unfinished projects, too many dangling loose ends, too many details drifting about my office, my computer and my calendar. Bits of paper, piles of files, stacks of stuff -- the accumulation of many months of unreflectively moving from activity to activity, without any sort of strategy for dealing with it all.

Granted, I've been working on the de-cluttering now for some months. I've ebbed and flowed between acceptance, resignation and aggravation. Progress has been slow. Given the drifts and dunes of "stuff", it couldn't have been any other way. But finally, progress is beginning to be made. I couldn't help but wonder, "Why can I be so patient on the end of a shovel after a snowstorm and so impatient with the time all the other sorts of 'digging out' is taking?"

I think my impatience may be directly related, not to the "stuff" that has accumulated in my life, but the awareness that my own indecisiveness in dealing with it all contributed greatly to the problem. Certainly, some share of the "stuff" arrived from others and as a result of my job. But much of the "stuff" came into my life and my space because I brought/bought it myself! I'm guessing the latter scenario has been the case 90% of the time.

Lessons learned?

1.  For the short term, I have resolved to be ruthless in disallowing "new stuff", no matter how intriguing it may be (new book, new opportunity, new learning experience, etc), from entering my spaces (home or office; intellectual or emotional). No new "stuff" equals no new decisions to be made or deferred, actions to take or things to file, sort or store.

2.  For the long term, I will adopt the same attitude of dealing with my "stuff" accumulation I used this morning on the snow: a little at a time, taking a bit off the top, repeating as necessary.

3.  Between now and that great day when the "stuff" is at last to a manageable level, I will implement a strategy I learned this morning. The strategy of appreciation. As I clear away the "stuff" of my life, cutting paths through it all by finishing a project, shredding/recycling papers, donating books or making difficult decisions,I will step back, pause, enjoy the view of the newly cleared space and give thanks for having the patience and perseverance to finish that part of the job.

While the city around me continues to clear away the snow, it's time to find my decisiveness shovel and open the next box of "stuff". There's more digging out to do.