It’s funny the things that make us feel like we are on top of our game. We attempt to do our best and some days it feels like the carpet is being pulled right from under us. Other days, everything is going to hell in a handbasket and yet one or 2 areas of our life or even just our living space evoke the sensation that all is right with the world. After moving once every year for the last 3 years, with as many pregnancies in as many years, my planet seems to be spinning off its axis.
Lucky I am to have people in my life who are gifted with the ability to see past the chaos to the potential functionality and inherent beauty of organization. One such lovely soul is a long-time family friend, Lynn. She came over to my house on Monday. She bravely ventured into my vortex, I mean home. Together, we tackled 3-4 years worth of crazy.
Since we have lived in such tiny dwellings since our trek across the nation, we have kept the majority of our belongings in storage facilities of some kind or other. While we lived with my family, we rented a storage unit about 8 miles/15 minutes away. When we moved into the trailer, friends helped us put together a shed in our backyard, which we were able to bring with us when we moved to Hacktown. While this was wonderful for the time, there came a point past which the ability to contain stuff was overshadowed by the inability to keep track of said stuff. Since our previous 2 dwellings were so minute, it became imperative to keep things out of the living area that were not immediately essential. Since packing boxes and looking through other boxes is best accomplished in an environment of order and control, the storage unit and later the shed quickly became a place of disaster and chaos. Items not presently in use were thrown into containers along with whatever other things needed to be moved out. Other bins were upended and rifled through in the process of searching for the next size of jammies or toys that required less batteries or emitted less sound. Long story short: my stuff was a mess.
5 hours, 2 minds, Rubbermaid bins, and a Sharpie later, a small truckload of items were shipped off to Goodwill, and a similar quantity designated as trash. I found things I had long forgotten existed. Treasures were unearthed.
Above all, space was created. Sweet, blessed room! Open floors. Unfilled shelves. Peace of mind. A soul-deep sigh of relief.
And the illusion that my life is under control. Because with that illusion, ensues the energy to create and maintain a semblance of order.
All baby and toddler clothing is sorted, folded, and labeled in easily accessible containers. Junk, purged. Air, breathable. Closets, navigable.
We were even able to decipher the status of my years upon years worth of sewing supplies. That in itself is a miracle.
Upon the foundation of Lynn’s genius, I have been able to carve out a few areas of relative structure in order to provide for myself and anyone with visual access to my living quarters, the impression of calm and decided triumph over chaos.