Talk Thursday: The Sweetest Perfection

Today it appears too many people are unhappy in their lives. Stuck-in-a-rut lives,that didn’t turn out the way they wanted. They either have to work, are not working their dream job, or they are stuck in a job that isn’t what they wanted or thought it would become, yet stay because the known evil is lesser than the evil of change. They find themselves knee deep in debt or neck high in waste. Their lives are as cluttered with junk as is the spare bedroom where they throw everything they’ve either no time to put away or have no idea where to sort it to.

Sid yesterday spoke about cleaning his desk; my desk is a symbol of the clutter in my life and my mind. When work and life become overwhelming my spare bedroom bed becomes unseeable and my desk at work becomes hidden under random acts of - set aside this to work on that. On Friday afternoons, my busiest day of the week, I will stop, breathe and file. All the little piles of scattered lists (a must by my boss’ standards,) folders with time orders or commercial copy (to be cut [produced]) sticking out as reminders lay in cascading lines of set aside, before I leave, are foldered, filed, reordered, or recycled. Voila’ I’m done. It’s not perfection it’s just my system.

My spare bedroom, not so easy a task to accomplish. By Christmas reorder in the Executive Room (no work gets done there, it’s just what Ducky calls the spare bedroom – we don’t often get guest) is a must. If I don’t clean it and organize the piles into permanent places, where will my Christmas shopping get stacked and reorganized in to bags for each recipient? Ya know, it’s a complicated chore but someone has to do it. It is a symbol of my harried ness.

None of us are perfect, but we all have our own systems, they don’t always work, for some I’m thinking they never work; for others, I think they just don’t care. I am finding myself saddened and boggled by people daily. Yes, our lives are harried and cluttered, but we do it to ourselves. We seemingly always want more, the grass is always greener, and the desserts always sweeter. Or are they? Is our winter of discontent really the product of our inability to be happy with what we have? I don’t mean the couple who were mismatched from day one, but lust was too blinding to see the truth. I mean the people who aren’t content with what they have in their lives and barely tread water to keep up with the Jones.

Personally I don’t want what the Jones’ have. I have a small house if more room is a desire I will add on, not buy a bigger house with more guest rooms, more cubby holes and nooks to clean. I want cozy, livable space, I want people to walk in and want to stay a while because they feel at home. Hmmm, not many come to visit… that may be a clue.

I am happy with my yard that is under constant renovation (I know that sounds like a contradiction, but it’s not,) my love my hot tub courtyard (okay not everyone has a hot tub or a court yard,) I am happy with my cutting garden and my lily garden (okay not so happy with the lily garden at the moment, but I’m working it out.) I love my husband, I love my dog, I love my kids, I adore adore adore my grandson, I love my family, I love my house, I love my job.

Note..s: My husband is my third and he’s not home near enough; my dog pees on the carpet and is a 93 pound lapdog… maybe that’s why people don’t come back; my kids don’t visit near enough; my grandson is perfect… except when he throws his treats wrapper behind the futon in his room; I count my daughter, my mother, and my sister among my best friends; my house is only a 1000 feet square; and my job is harried – but I love it all, it’s what I want, it’s what I need. Yes my friends, I am sated, and that is sweet perfection.

Sith,Cele