Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 3

Follow-Through

As I assist my clients, one of the main things I find myself doing is making note of what sorts of things are piling up, and why.

A big pattern I am seeing emerge is a lack of follow-through.

For most of us, a common pattern looks like this: we come in the door with an arm full of stuff and set in on the first available surface. Then we might run immediately to the bathroom or answer a call or text (or both at the same time), or respond to a pet or child or spouse, or otherwise rush to prepare for the next obligation in our overly busy day.  And while we intend to follow through on the mail sorting, and/or putting away the shopping, and/or putting away the random possessions that are returning to the house, we actually rarely get back to putting away that latest pile of stuff lying on whatever surface is nearest the door.

This is such a common dynamic for my clients, I am now surprised when I enter a home and don't find the inevitable pile of unprocessed mail, flotsam, and jetsam somewhere near the main entrance.  It takes mindfulness and a certain amount of self-discipline to return and process those things, and honestly, most of us don't often have the disposable time.

For myself, I have had to build into my expectations and time-budgeting the intention to process all that stuff shortly after getting home, and slowly this behavior is becoming a habit. Instead of shifting into the next gear the minute I get in the door, I choose to stay with all the things I've just brought in the door until they are all processed. Mail gets sorted into instant recycling, instant shredding, and the place on my desk where bills and such go to await my desk time. Groceries and shopping items get put all the way away including all the bags and receipts.

Done. All done.  It is a wonderful new pattern.

There are always days when I get distracted or way-laid or am short on time. Those days I often walk into our kitchen later in the day to find unprocessed stuff still sitting on the table.  Of course, there are those days!  But building the habit and intending to maintain it helps me reduce their number a great deal. (Also, we live in a tiny space, and there simply is no spare flat surface for dumping. We NEED the kitchen table for too many uses, so we have to keep an eye on the secondary dumping spots as well, which have a tendency to collect items moved quickly off the table. These locations---that space between the books and the next shelf, that corner of the desk in the next room---can collect unprocessed junk just as fast as any primary dumping spot. But the complete shortage of space certainly encourages better habits in managing the little we do have.)

This lack of follow-through can show up with dishes sitting in or near the sink, with laundry on the floor or near the laundry basket, with piles of items near the stairs waiting to go up or down (which we pass repeatedly without actually bringing them along). We have the intention to be tidier.  But we are missing some key step between our intention and our actual follow-through.  All too often the lack of follow-through results in a mound of neglected tasks still awaiting our attention. And as that mound grows to a mountain, the very size itself becomes a deterrent.

I don't think the lack of follow-through is necessarily laziness.  I think sometimes it is fueled by a habit of rushing, or perhaps it is some rebellious "I don't want to" left over from childhood.  Sometimes when I walk in the door, my brain decides I am "done" and I go straight to resting or playing, forgetting to finish the final steps of returning---the equivalent of the child repeatedly dropping the coat on the floor (though at age 57 I do at least hang up my coat). It is certainly a lack of mindfulness---not an immoral thing per se, but not something that benefits me either.  My auto-pilot just isn't very enlightened and I am often quite simply tired.

And yet it is when I am tired that staying present and completing the tasks of follow-through feel spiritual. Not only does it take mindful presence and a kind of surrender, but it also requires that I refuse to rush and to give my future self the gift of a clean and completed space.

There is some connection between good personal self-care and good care of our spaces. It is not linear or pure or black and white. Beautiful, wise, and creative people can be found inhabiting all sorts of spaces, from the very chaotic to the very ordered.

But for me, there is something spiritual about taking care of my surroundings, be they mine or simply a public washroom I may use. It feels like respect and care for the next person to enter the space.  It is an act of care for my future self at home and an act of care for some traveler whom I may never meet in the public space. They are connected for me. It is a way of living the Golden Rule, to show respect for the one who will follow me. It makes my soul feel good.

Follow-through. That thing the gym teacher harped on about. It turns out it is important in all parts of life, not just tennis or baseball.  Even if you are not interested in leaving the public washroom cleaner than you found it, do your own self the service of following through on intended tasks at home promptly. Don't leave them until "later" unless you are actually good at returning and finishing the job in a reasonable amount of time. (Several weeks is not a reasonable amount of time.)

And as you succeed and fail and succeed again, be kind to yourself.  This stumbling and wavering and returning to the plan again and again is exactly what the process looks like.

For the other entries in this series, see below.

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 1

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 2

Spoons

The "Spoons" Metaphor or "Spoon Theory"

Recently, a darling young woman-friend said to me, "I can't.  I don't have enough spoons."  (She lives with depression.)

At my puzzled look she told me with delight about the helpful "meme" that is spreading through the collective conversation.  It all began with Christine Miserandino's attempt to explain to a friend what it is like to live with invisible illness---about the tough decisions one has to make every day with one's limited energy.

The concreteness of the spoon imagery has managed to effectively illustrate what invisibly ill people have been saying for years:  Those who live with illness have far fewer resources than the healthy.

Being judged for low functioning or being guilted into more activity is NOT helpful.  Even still I struggle to remember that I often have fewer spoons in a day than regular people do.  I don't need outside help in feeling like I am not doing enough or producing enough.  I manage to feel shitty all by myself. (It is part of being depressed).  Patience and compassion are needed, not more shaming and shoulds,

When I think in terms of my "spoons," however, I tend to get practical and pragmatic, rather than getting bogged down in shame.  I am hearing the metaphor of the spoons increasingly in the conversations around me now too, which makes my heart glad for all the other good people I know who live with invisible illness. (Illnesses such as lupus, multiple sclerosis, depression, anxiety disorder, and a so many more.)

It is too easy to judge others, and too frequently unjust.  The simple act of trying to explain or defend oneself  from others' judgments and "advice" and attempts to "fix" takes even more spoons from an already meager supply.

The world already is overly short on compassion and respect.  How about we hand around more of that and less of suspicion and judgment and ill-informed assumptions?

Let's start handing out free spoons.  A kind word; a smile; a helping hand; an anonymous act of kindness: these are the things that help everyone.  It is so much easier to give a spoon than take one.  Why are we so quick to assume that someone who is short on spoons deserves to be so?

Please, take excellent care of yourself if you are short on spoons!  Please accept help with grace, not shame!  And many thanks to all those blessed enough to have spoons to share, who share them.

"Love one another as I have loved you."

Find the original spoon theory story by Christine Miserandino here.

Pushing the Stream or Riding the Wave

Push? or Rest? When to do which?

Feb 12, 2016

As I sit here in my warm-enough space on this coldest of February days, I am reflecting on today's fatigue and discouragement.

A motivational post this morning encouraged me to "pull up my socks" and "get on with it" if I was discouraged; yet I know, deep in my heart, that that is not the answer for me today.

Once again I am in waiting mode.  The bitter cold outside emphasizes the "full-stop" feeling inside me.

I battle this energy a lot, and wonder what it has to teach me that I have not yet learned.  The messages around me---the predominant message of this culture---is "Push! Push! Push!" "Try! Try! Try!" "If nothing is happening, try HARDER!"

"Push! Push! Push!" "Try! Try! Try!" "If nothing is happening, try HARDER!" 

Those messages live deep in my own soul. I have never been keen on waiting for much of anything.  "Push!"  "Try!"  "Do!"

And yet the very energy of life is saying to me today, "Rest.  Renew.  It isn't time for pushing yet."

Why is that so hard to trust?

I have spent many lifetimes trying to "push" the stream of life. It has never been successful.  Instead, life seems to involve working with the waves and rhythms of life well, and harnessing them, not telling life how it should flow or trying to make it be different.

Again and again, I must learn the ways I am powerless in life.  I must learn to work with what I am given---seasonally, situationally, physically, and rhythmically. I must learn when to move and when to wait and rest---according to my instincts and the situation.

There is no point planting crops in the dead of winter.  There is no point trying to surf on a calm sea.  And there is no point trying to run a marathon (or even walk a mile) when one has just broken one's legs in a skiing accident.

Take it from the queen of pushing.  Sometimes NOT pushing is the better thing.

My personality is much happier doing than not doing, so pushing comes much easier than resisting the urge, and in this lies a metaphor for me and others like me.  The nurses had to teach me NOT to push  during one of my labors, even though I felt the urge.  Pushing at that time could have inflamed the cervix because I wasn't fully dilated, slowing or even preventing the birth.  Instead the nurses helped me breathe and resist the the urge to push until conditions were ready.

Until conditions were ready. 

Waiting for hospitable conditions does make a lot of sense.  When the conditions are good, all we need to do is ride the wave, harness the wind, or follow the urge to push.

The space in between resting and "riding the wave" does include a certain pushing that is good for us.  Taking a step towards one's goals might be exactly what is needed for you today.  Only you can know what is right for you.  There is an important practice that includes showing up for the work even if the conditions aren't perfect.  Writers must write, even when they aren't "feeling it."  All activities have their less than exciting stages---the "meh" surfing days, so to speak.  Logging those mediocre hours does get us to our goal, so long as we are not ignoring our need for rest.

If conditions are adequate, you have the option to paddle and row, or rest and renew.  It takes experience and wisdom to know which is better for you.

Then when ALL conditions are perfect, we simply ride the energy and it all comes easily.  Oh, to feel that way again!  It has been a LONG wait.

Until then, it is okay to rest.  REST is even strongly recommended in several bodies of spiritual teaching.  The resting pose in yoga is considered one of the most important and most overlooked.

I cannot push the stream of life.  I cannot make progress by blowing on my sail.  I cannot force Spring to come sooner by plowing the frozen ground and trying to plant seeds in it.

In fact, I cannot "mind-over-matter" or "sheer force of will" most of life's circumstances, no matter how much I wish I could.

"Push" except when it isn't right to push.  "Rest" except when it isn't helpful to rest.  Ride the joy every chance you get, but don't blame yourself if the joy seems to avoid you.  It may not be your fault.

Whatever your choices today, may you find self-understanding and compassion. May you become adept at learning the responses that help you progress toward your dreams, even if it is not-doing, or resting.

Today, I am breathing.  Today I am noticing how much I wish I was anywhere else than here (exhausted from over-doing, and anxious to "get it all done").  Today I am resting and waiting for the energetic Spring to come back, for the waves to pick me up and carry me, and for the wind to fill my sails once more.

Namaste,
Alison