Nice and Easy Does It Every Time

"When you have a great and difficult task, something perhaps almost impossible, if you only work a little at a time, every day a little, suddenly the work will finish itself.

~  Isak Dinesen

After two and a half months of letting go of cosmetics, dishes, books, knickknacks, purses,etc.,etc, I'm finally seeing empty drawers, space on the shelves and in the closets. t feels sooooooo good!  

And though I am still not committed to becoming a minimalist in the true sense of the word, I can understand why many people have. The sense of freedom and accomplishment is very satisfying.  And I feel so mature!  So responsible!

In the process, these are three of the most important things I've learned: 

• Anyone can eat an elephant, a bite at a time.  I know many of the experts recommend a sweeping purge. However, I think the overwhelm of that option may be why  many people who know they should downsize and declutter, yet keep putting it off.  
• Less choice makes decision-making easier, much easier.  Duh!!
• Shutting out the siren call of the marketers - whether on TV, in the print media, or on technological gadgets - significantly reduces the temptation to fill the empty spaces again.  It's also eye-opening to get in touch with how strong and pervasive the buy, buy, buy message is.

Three strategies that have proven particularly effective:

• Having a box accessible for depositing items for donation - it keeps the commitment visible. 
• Setting a daily goal of 3 items to donate; 3 to toss and 3 to either store or use in a new way....and striving to do so early in the day. After 10 weeks, I'm down to 1,1, and 1!!!  After 10 weeks, it's now a habit. (And I don't form habits easily.)
• Staying focused, one task at a time - a shelf, a drawer, one box - no multi-tasking for me.  

Three resources that I have found most useful:

• Organizing for the Creative Person, by Dorothy Lehmkuhl and Dolores Cotter,           the book that offers an abundance of ideas for a non-linear individual like me!  (or you?) The book that asserted I could become organized and it could even be fun.  If you have tried the more typical suggestions to become organized yet haven't been able to sustain the results, this may be the first book to consult.  
• Secrets of Simplicity, by Mary Carlomagno, the book that inspired me to think SIMPLE, not merely organized. I particularly like the questions she poses to help her readers "learn to live better with less."  Plus, it's an attractive book that is simply organized and easy to access and use.
• The Not So Big Life, by Sarah Susanka, a thoughtful blend of exercises and inspiring stories that deliver a philosophical basis for simplifying and practical activities to support doing so.

For those of you who prefer your Kindle or Nook, there's a plethora of short and sweet e-books dealing with organization, decluttering, simplification and minimalism.  Among the most helpful that I have found is....

• the work of Meg Wolfe, who goes by the tagline The Minimalist Woman, and is the author of an e-book by the same title and an engaging blog, www.theminimalistwoman.com  

Information's clearly not the issue.  As with dieting, there's plenty of information out there. It's not so much about finding the right program, as much as finding the right motivation and the strength of commitment.  For me, the motivation to simplify my environment grew out of my wish to age artfully.  Might take me another 10 weeks to complete this job, but I
see the forest for the trees!

A Reason to Celebrate

''Youth is a quality, not a matter of circumstances."
Frank Lloyd Wright

Next week I will celebrate my 73rd birthday, and I do intend to celebrate.  I realize that some folks would be aghast that I admit my age, but I'm  pleased that I'm still here, still healthy, still learning and contributing.  I may occasionally feel the physical wear and tear of an arthritic knee, or become perturbed when I can't quickly retrieve a word that I know I know.  But for the most part, I'm a happy camper.  In many ways, happier than I've ever been.

Maybe this is why it has been surprisingly easy to let go of years worth of...stuff.  Much easier than I had expected.

In the weeks since this New Year began, I've been on a decluttering, simplifying tear.  Not that we're hoarders, or even messy.  In fact, after years of concerted efforts to downsize and become more organized, I'm sure any casual observer would be impressed with the labeled organization I had already created.

What I came to recognize last fall, however, was that what had been accomplished was merely a corralling of the clutter, albeit quite stylishly.  We still had too much, way too much.   After all, we married at age 40 and combined my stuff with his stuff and eventually added some of my parents' stuff.  That's a lot of stuff.

So,  I made a commitment to pare down,  to streamline, to create space, order and freedom, not just organization.  To confront whatever would surface in the process.  No matter what.  Whatever it might take.  However long it might take. 

I approached this commitment as I historically have approached goals or projects.  By reading everything I could get my hands on.  Besides the shelves of books and magazines, there is a plethora of e-books dealing with organization, simplification, minimalism, goal setting, habit development.....Well, you get it.  One can spend months learning and not doing much.  

So, as the saying goes, I bit the bullet and started clearing drawers and boxes, baskets and totes,  shelves and cabinets, initially setting my sights on selecting 10 items to donate or gift, 10 items to throw away, and 10 items to store/use more functionally - every day!  I'm almost embarrassed to say I achieved that every day for 2 weeks.  For the last three weeks, I've settled on being  a "triple threat."...finding 3 items to toss, 3 to donate and 3 to relocate...every day - after all, I am making progress.

This is some of what I am learning along the way....

• I am not committed to becoming a minimalist...yet.  That may come in time.
• I am committed to living with FAR less than the marketing industry promotes.
• To avoid merely replacing what we are releasing requires vigilance against that same industry...tossing catalogs without leafing through them, turning off the TV or at least not watching commercials, knowing the difference between wanting and needing, challenging the constant assertion that we DESERVE every new product or service.
•  It's not our duty to fuel the economy.  It's painfully obvious that we have done our share!
• Some tips and techniques do help, so research can be valuable.  However,  many of these tips and techniques show up repeatedly, just packaged in different language, sequence, or format. (I'll recommend some of my favorite resources in my next blog).
• I'm an out of sight, out of mind gal.  So it's required diligence to avoid chastising myself every time I find something I'd forgotten I had bought, something I hadn't used in years, or something for which I have duplicates.
• The hardest things to let go of (at least for me) haven't been those items laden with memories, but those that no longer seem relevant.  Were I not  feeling relevant , this might be enough to stop me in my tracks.
• The biggest challenge has not been in letting go of the stuff, however, but in facing the thinking and habits that led to such accumulation, especially in facing what I thought the stuff meant, and meant about me.  It's a good thing I'm in a good place...maybe this is what it means to be ready.

Letting Go

"All the art of living lies in the fine mingling of letting go and holding on."

                                                                                             ~ Havelock Ellis

I've been on a letting go binge since Christmas, fueled by two things; the first, a remark from an old friend, who looking through our guest bathroom drawers for something she needed, said with a touch of awe, "Wow, you are really organized!"  The second - my internal reply, "But we still have too much stuff, it's just well-organized stuff."

So, when I sat down to write goals for this year, I decided that it's time to complete the project I started 13 years, yes, 13, ago when I was diagnosed with cancer.  At that time, I had a concern, among several concerns, that were I not to pull through, what would John be left to deal with.  Whenever my energy levels permitted, I began to toss, to donate, to organize.  It proved to be a worthy project, not just for the results, but for the sense of achievement and control it provided at a time when I felt so out of control.

But once in remission, I slacked off.  Oh, faced with a move, I stepped in the ring for another round, emerging much better organized, but still too much stuff.  Now, just better-organized, labeled stuff.  In two homes, no less.

So, it wasn't surprising that when we decided to move into one home in St. George (within 27 days), we had boxes and crates and furniture in the garage, on the patio, and in the courtyard.  Not surprising that it has taken us almost three years to toss, and consign, and sell, and donate.  

Along the way, I have continued to reorganize and rethink our use of space, our need for stuff, how I want to spend my time - not cleaning, not packing and unpacking, not searching for something I know I have somewhere in a nicely labeled container.  This time around, I intend to simplify and focus on order and easy retrieval.  To end the year knowing that all we have is what we really NEED and USE.  That we know what we have, where it is, and how to easily retrieve it.

Therefore, I've been on a letting go binge since Christmas.  This bout, however, I've taken some time to reflect on what I've learned along the way.  To address why I've resisted this final purge.  To fess up to what this stuff means to me, about me.  (That's the next posting!)  To enroll, not badger, John for his help.

I'm still driven by my concern for leaving John with organized chaos, (and yes, I recognize I could be the one left behind), but more than this, I do not want whatever time we have left together to be spent on stuff!

In Memorium

"Memory is the thing you forget with." 

~ Alexander Chase    

Spend some time with any senior citizen and inevitably a comment (or dissertation) is made regarding memory.  Or more accurately, memory loss.  I hear myself saying, often out loud, "now, why did I come in this room?"....or "where did I put....my keys, a book, my purse, that letter," etc., etc.   

Spend time with a group of senior citizens and a deeper conversation occurs.  "Are you experiencing the same challenges?" "Do you worry that this may signify something worse?"  "I hate this!"  Nervous laughter, reassurances usually follow.  

I remember having a brain scan a couple years ago and reading the report..."a normal, aging brain."  I didn't know whether to be relieved or offended.  I did some research, however, just to be reassured that I was indeed normal.  So, for the most part, I don't worry that my lapses in memory mean anything more catastrophic.

What is more intriguing to me these days is why I remember what I do remember and what triggers the memories.  Just two days ago, while watching Turner Classic Movie's day of musicals (Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly classics), there was a memorium for industry personalities that passed away this year.  You know, the kind of tribute done yearly at the Oscars.  Well, that one I've come to expect.  This one came as a surprise.  The list itself was also a surprise - Esther Williams, Dennis Farina, Jean Stapleton, Eileen Brennan, Michael Ansara, Karen Black, Eleanor Parker, Tom Clancy, Roger Ebert, Steve Forrest, Jack Klugman,  Peter O'Toole - at least 20 names I recognized and another dozen faces I have come to know over the years in various character roles.  The number stunned me.

And with it, a flood of memories - the TV series, the iconic roles (Edith Bunker, Hot Lips Hoolihan, Lawrence of Arabia, Cochise), the people I saw the movies or series with (some no longer a part of my life), the music, and the young woman, even the little girl I was when I first encountered them.  

In the couple days that have followed, I have seen this clip again.  Now, expecting it, some of the surprise, the sadness, and the nostalgia has passed.  And what has surfaced next is the awareness that many of these names no longer mean much to people even a few years younger than I - or other fans of TCM,.  Joan Fontaine, Audrey Totter, John Kerr, Dale Robertson.  Oh yes, I know that every generation has to face this phenomenon, but it is still a bit disconcerting whenever it happens.  Yes, it certainly has struck me before - who were the Beatles? What was polio? Did you really walk to school in the snow?  You didn't have.....!!!!??

So what makes this experience more poignant?  The sheer number of personalities?  The realization that many of these names may mean little or nothing to many Americans?  Or the recognition that they do mean a lot to me and that is another reminder of the passage of time, of my aging? Of my own mortality?

Maybe I'll skip the memorium segment of the Oscars this year.

  

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow

"Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old."    

                                                                            ~Franz Kafka

I love a good quote.  One that expresses what I'm thinking or feeling, succinctly, or lyrically.  One that inspires me to see the world in a new way.  Or captures an opinion with compassion or humor.  

I've started to collect quotes about aging, thinking they'd make great intros to these postings. Been amazed to see how many are out there, how many seem so apropos.  I don't memorize many - these days I'm lucky to remember why I've gone to another room!  But I glance over them now and then, usually when I'm being particularly reflective or when I'm considering something to write.  It still can surprise me to come upon a quote that seems to leap off the page, so perfect is it for the moment or circumstance.

Take this Kafka quote.  And this scene....

This is St. George.  This is our street.  This is the aftermath of 6 inches of snow, and the lowest temperatures recorded here in 74 years.  This is a city with one snowplow (assigned full time to the local airport) and many snowbirds who live here partime to escape these very conditions. A city with many  folks who don't know how to drive on snow.  Who don't own a shovel and don't want tol  Some folks who saw this storm only as an inconvenience, something to be endured.

And others who took it all in with wonder and joy.  Who delighted in watching children build snowmen.  Who took the opportunity to revisit the storms of their childhood that shut down school and brought with them tunnels and forts and snowball fights.  Who bundled up and captured the beauty as best they could.

Yesterday I attended an event where everyone was over 60 and the difference in the two points of view was glaringly apparent.  In the very absence of any negativity, any complaining from those who attended ...arriving in cars driven by those with four wheel drive.  Walking cautiously over ice lest they fall and break a hip!  Holding on to one another, and "laughing all the way." Greeting each other with "Isn't it beautiful?!"  Sharing stories of the snowstorms of their childhood or removing snow from their driveways with a broom, even a rake.  The room was filled with laughter, enthusiasm, and delight.  

This is my book club - 20 or so men and women whose company I treasure.  I would have said I treasure them because they are bright and curious, respectful of each other's opinions, diverse in life experiences, and rich in skills and talents.  They are. Today, I understand another contribution they make to my life.  They have the "ability to see beauty" and revel in it.  And so, without saying it, they refuse to grow old.  So do I!!!

p.s.  In case I don't post again before the New Year, happy holidays to all and may you be surrounded by beauty.

Aging Artfully

"The best part of the art of living is to know how to age gracefully."

                                                                                                                              ~ Eric Hoffer

It's been quite a trip down memory lane - reading the 20 year old journal that I recently uncovered.  Photos, essays, lists, images from catalogs and magazines.  Hopes, dreams and wishes for a future that is today.

Among it all a clipping about the veteran character actor, Jack Palance, who had just won his first and only Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor, at the age of 72.  And stunned the audience by dropping down and doing a series of one-armed push-ups.  I kept the article because I didn't want to lose the reported comments he made before the Senate Special Committee on Aging - the subject "aging artfully."  Comments that struck me as wise and worth remembering.

Words that strike me today (now that I am 72!) as inspirational and worth sharing.

"Unfortunately, too many of us seek solace and consolation as a reward for getting old.  Since it happens to everyone, aging shouldn't come as a shock, and it shouldn't come as a surprise.  It's a perfectly natural sequence of life, a fulfilling completion of what was designed for us in the beginning... 

"And it has nothing to do with 'getting old.'...Don't get old, don't allow it to happen.  Don't let them think of you as old - and I mean your children, your grandchildren or those well-meaning friends who want to share their own physical decline with you.  Tell them all to go to hell!

"Look, one of the most important reasons for living is to do something - live outside of yourself and put together an idea, an idea that you want to explore and complete...Awaken your creative sensitivities."

The reporter, one Allen J. Sheinman, concluded by saying that it was doubtful that Palance left his congressional audience without a fresh perspective on the second half of life.  I'd like to think so, but if it did,  I don't see a lot of evidence that it has caught on.  Instead, anti-aging seems to be the prevalent message everywhere I turn. With an emphasis on image.  Not on health, not on purpose, not on learning or creativity.  At least not in the mass media. Even Dr. Oz uses the term.

I've been searching for some time for a better way to think about this phase of my life, a way to think about it that would support effective behavioral choices.  Anti-aging doesn't work for me, too negative.  And the more positive phrases that have been coined, like Jane Fonda's Prime Time, or the Golden Years, or even the Ninth Hole (which came to me via e-mail) haven't captured my fancy.  But "aging artfully", aging creatively - love it!!  Thank you, Jack.  And thank you, Eric.

Shifting Gears

Well, I'm back.  Have been traveling.  Nothing as romantic as a tour across Europe on the Orient Express. Or as altruistic as volunteering at a hospital  in a Third World nation.  I haven't even left St. George.

My journey has been an internal one, in retrospect similar to others I've taken every six or seven years of  my adult life, a journey marked by introspection, contemplation and reflection.  Marked by  reading marathons, and notebooks filled with lists and quotes and questions I didn't know I had.  Marked by a flurry of decluttering and reorganizing shelves and drawers  Marked by a sense that whatever the final destination, it would be different than I anticipated when setting out.

Years ago, Deborah Tannen labelled these journeys "passages" and her book of that title was particularly helpful during the aftermath of my divorce - and in the subsequent passages initiated by job changes, remarriage, moves, new careers, disease and the death of loved ones.  The external events that have been catalysts for the major shifts in my life.  This time, however, this passage crept up on me.  No significant external event.  

I didn't even recognize I was on the road again until I realized I wasn't journaling with my typical long hand prose, something I'd done faithfully for over 35 years.  I hadn't been blogging because I wasn't sure what I wanted to blog about.  Although healthy and busy with several interesting activities, generally satisfied, I also was vaguely discontented, aware that something was missing. This time, I decided to let things unfold, to idle in neutral so to speak, to just hang out with whatever was going on and trust that I would know when it was time to shift gears and get going again.  Not my usual style!

Then last week, during one of my decluttering binges, in the midst of culling through a box of old journals, I came upon a special volume I put together years ago on the heels of my 50th birthday, a volume of pictures and photos, of dreams and desires for what I hoped would be the future that is today.  And discovered an interesting essay, a description of how I wanted to age.  Clear, detailed, optimistic, validating - and revealing.

What has been missing has been a venue for continuing to make a difference, a contribution.  One that resonates with my values, my experience, my skills.  One that calls for stretching, for learning, for creating. That addresses something I am passionate about.  

The contribution I want to make is to generate a meaningful conversation about aging - a conversation that is realistic without becoming whiny and fearful, optimistic without being pollyanish.  I want to examine with others the challenges inherent in getting older in a society that is obsessed with youth, to raise questions and concerns that we too often avoid, and to consider alternatives with others who also want a meaningful conversation. The venue, this blog. I hope you will join me in the coming weeks.