Our friend, the humble book

Happy September! Can you feel all the back-to-school energy in the air? Maybe it’s even taking place in your own household. This season, that energy has me thinking about books. Several of my clients are working on long-untouched collections of books lately too. Do you have books?

Books are like friends. They carry memories with them. They are a tangible reminder of who we’ve been, where we’ve been, and what we’ve learned. They are sentinels of what we value. With all these strong associations, it’s very common to hang on to books long past their useful life, even when we don’t want them or run out of room to store them. We have an undeniable emotional relationship with these lovely, bound collections of ideas.

How I collected books I dread

Way back, Inspired Home Office was a little glimmer of an idea I gently tossed around with trusted friends. I had no idea what IHO would be, but I loved it. I also felt pretty insecure about my expertise as an organizer because, for someone who’d been as disorganized as I was, I felt nervous that I deserved any credibility or authority.

So I bought books. I loaded up on the Big Names in organizing: Covey, Allen, Morgenstern, Kingston, Gillingham-Ryan and others. I got books about organizing, time management, feng shui, money, decorating and others. My thinking was that if I read the experts that I would feel more confident and knowledgeable.

In case you hadn’t noticed, I was attempting to solve something from a place of fear. Reading the words of all these polished, accomplished authors just made me feel more insecure and fearful. I found myself comparing myself to them. I felt smaller and smaller. My little internal committee was scoffing at the very idea that I had something to contribute. Yuck.

Two big lessons learned

Although many of these authors had fantastic ideas, I was insulted by the very idea that there was One Right Way to do anything. It bothered me that so few left room for interpretation or personal experience. I felt insulted by the tone used in some of the books, “It’s simple, anyone can do this!” because this was not my experience. I couldn’t do it. Many of the people I’d met couldn’t follow their simple advice.

In hindsight, reading these authors also helped me realize that there are many ways to get organized and none of them are perfect. These authors write about methods that work for them. And in the end, there’s only one way — the way that works for you. So, in some ways I’m indebted to them, even if I didn’t agree with all of their strategies.

And a true confession

The surprising thing is, after feeling all this resistance and negativity associated with some of these books, I still own them. Today. They’re sitting in a pile, half-read on my shelf.

Even if I’d once loved these books, I know they don’t fit me anymore. What’s a sentimental bibliophile to do?

One way to clear out old, unhelpful books

To honor and possibly release your books, here are the 8 steps to try:

• Take your time with your old friends. Go one book at a time.
• Hold the book in your hands. Notice the title, the cover, the author.
• Reflect on what you wanted to learn from owning this book. What hopes did you have?
• How do you feel when you hold/look at this book?
• Be curious: Does it align with your the vision you have for your life?
• If you released it, could you find it again if you needed to?
• Where could it go next? Back on the shelf? To an organization in your community that buys books? To a charity that sells them to fund their work?
• What’s your next step? Allow yourself to decide.

Trust your intuition with these questions. If you want to keep the book, don’t force yourself to release it. Often there’s a lot more going on emotionally than practically (as in, where to donate it), so take your time. Make space for the feelings and memories to come up. Cherish them. Make room for them.

Choose and act

As I looked over my own pile of organizing books and did this process, I discovered that there are two that have a real ick feeling to them. I’m going to release these — in fact they’re now by the back door so that I’ll remember to put them in the car. The rest I still look at occasionally and like to have them when my clients refer to them. So the remainder will stay.

Is it time to spend a little quality time with your books? You never know what friendships you’ll rekindle in the process!

Feel free share your experiences with books by commenting below!

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This is the chair I didn’t want anymore… at the end of my driveway.

With a “FREE” sign attached.

Yes, it’s my old cat-scratched chair on a Sunday evening, on our not-too-busy street.

Can you guess how long it took for a grateful someone to snatch it up? 64 minutes. No Craigslist ad, no Freecycle post, not even a trip to Goodwill, and it’s gone.

This is just a friendly reminder about how easy it can be to release what you no longer need.

The best part? The grins, waves, and shouted “thank yous” from the folks who carted it away. B’bye old chair!

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Do you have a Pottery-Barn-perfect office?

Yeah, me neither. But I suuuuure did want one.

To be 100% honest, I yearned for an office like that.

I sighed over the high-end woods and metals…pined for the sassy classy textiles tossed just-so on the lounging sofa…longed for the vast empty desk space to whistle while I worked…and whined for an upholstered wall with lots of inspiration and very few work reminders.

And I did all that sighing, pining, longing, and whining while slumped at an undersized, overwhelmed particleboard IKEA desk—in a small bedroom with barely enough room for rolling back my chair, forget an extra piece of furniture just for lying around and throwing blankets on.

If there was a square inch of empty space on my desk, I would’ve had to move the 8-inch stacks of paper and a rainbow snowbank of Post-Its to find it.

And if I wanted to find inspiration, my four blank beige walls with a few wilted postcards pinned to them were not the place to look.

This was my reality.

Reality? Check!

But the fantasy…oooooh, the fantasy!

I daydreamed of Pottery Barn’s pictured perfect spaces, full of bright windows and matching folders and furniture not made of dust and glue. In my sleeping dreams I walked among tall cabinets with tiny drawers full of treasures and sat at a gleaming empty desk.

And whether asleep or awake, I thought: “If I had an office like that, I would have a real business. And until I have that, I’m not a real business person. Because this mess of mine ain’t what a real business looks like.”

And then I found the first flaw.

I was flipping through yet another catalog and deep into the sighing, pining, and whining when I realized that none of the computer monitors had cords. Or the CPUs. Or the laptops either.

But then, what would be the point of cords when there were no outlets to plug them into?

Sometimes this was absurdly obvious, like the desk that was coyly positioned in the middle of a room. It was a shining steel-and-glass island floating in a sea of polished wood floor…

…that I’d have to abandon for the kitchen counter in four hours when the laptop battery died.

And good thing their office had those big windows for general lighting, because there were only two task lamps for the entire room. And, hey, how can someone pick the right folder when they’re the same color and alllll the way on the other side of the room?

It went downhill from there.

I’d finally seen those dream offices for what they were: Dreams. And someone else’s dreams, to boot.

Because my ideal office would need all kinds of lighting to shine me through the wee morning hours when I do my best work. And why have furniture to hold folders when I could organize my files digitally and get rid of paper altogether?

And it’d be pretty important to have cords to plug in and outlets to plug them into, wouldn’t ya think?

Sheesh…how was anyone supposed to get any real work done in there?

In the end….

As you’d guess, my real office looks nothing like those dreams. In fact, it looks like nothing…period.

I have a laptop, a portable wireless connection, a notepad, and a pouch of pens. And when I want to travel really light, I exchange the laptop for an iPad.

And that’s all.

No desk, no chair…no office.

Instead, my office is where I make it. Sometimes it’s in a noisy plaza across town and sometimes in a cafe downtown. Sometimes it’s a quiet corner of my local sandwich shop and sometimes it’s the soft sunny corner of my couch.

The world is my office.

I never pictured that. And those catalogs didn’t either.

So.

Please don’t compare and despair. The pictured perfect probably isn’t perfect for you! You’ll need more or less space, more or less light, more or less storage, more or less stuff.

Maybe you’ll discover you need a whole lot more. Maybe, like me, you’ll discover you need a whole lot less.

You’ll definitely need a way to plug stuff in

Don’t get me wrong, magazines and catalogs are great for ideas and inspiration, but only those. If you catch yourself sighing and longing and pining and whining, remember my opposite-of-office, chew on what would work best for you…

…and get real.

Crys Williams writes about ideas and tools for tiny online businesses over at Big Bright Bulb. Her office moves around, but you can always find her in the same place on Twitter: @bigbrightbulb.

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Two monitors?

I always thought that one computer monitor was sufficient until I worked in an office that had all the computers set up with two, side-by-side.

image source: computershopper.com

Just like the picture — except without the creepy staring eyes. You get the idea, right?

Why it’s useful

One of the limitations of a single monitor is that switching between documents or programs is challenging without getting the tabs all confoozled. In the real world of paper we hold documents side by side to compare them, to switch between them easily. Imagine trying to balance your checkbook with the bank statement directly underneath it. It’s confining. It’s not efficient.

Spreading stuff out, especially for visual creative types, makes information easier to process. Having two monitors allows you to duplicate this spaciousness in your computing.

In case you’d like to do this weekend project, this great how-to video from cnet walks you through the process step-by-step and tells you want equipment you’d need to make the switch.

Have you tried this? What do you think?

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On a recent post, I mentioned how difficult it is to keep kitty litter off the keyboard A cat-savvy reader suggested this desk attachment called the Kitt-In Box.

Adorable, isn’t it? I’d be willing to bet that if I added a warming bed, it would be kitty bliss!

Hat tip to Nita for the resource!

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You have limited energy

Assuming you’ve had a restful night’s sleep, you wake up in the morning with a reserve of energy. Not like electricity, but like a battery. A rechargeable one.

You probably do some things that joyfully drain your battery — doing your creative work, for example. It takes energy, but it also gives you some too. Life is also full of things that drain the spirit’s battery, emptying us slowly throughout the day. There’s traffic, noise, stressful circumstances and depleting people, too. We lose this vitality without filling back up.

Perhaps you’d prefer to spend your finite energy on your work, creating revenue, using your gifts, sharing them. You can turn this desire into a sacred practice.

You deserve a sacred space

Because we live in a “more is more” culture, so many things compete for our time and energy that it becomes difficult to sense where appropriate boundaries are. What is enough? What is too much?

Boundaries? It’s a free for all. We throw up our hands in overwhelmed resignation. From this place, it’s too much effort to discern where to begin.

You can create a sacred boundary around you

It is possible to preserve and cultivate this precious energy. Even though it seems impossible with all the act-now offers and text messages and appointments and calls to return and errands to run (and even my phone rings as I type this). It is possible. You may just need to start small. Smaller than you’re accustomed to.

Unsubscribe

Unsubscribing is a perfect place to begin to reclaim your vitality and spirit. Even as you do these actions, you may incidentally improve others’ lives too. Consider these suggestions:

Unsubscribe from emails: As you look through your inbox, notice what depletes you. Notice if there are certain emails you never read. Start unsubscribing — including to this newsletter. If you don’t have the heart to offend the sender, many email programs allow you to set up a “rule” so that certain messages get automatically trashed bypassing your inbox. Same outcome: less email, more peace.
Unsubscribe from phone calls: When you get a solicitation — even at an odd hour — pick up the phone and ask to removed from the list belonging to the company calling you. Be kind to the solicitor and remember they’re working to pay the bills too. I like to say thank you at the end and wish them a good evening with a smile. It may be the only kindness they receive today.
Unsubscribe from mail: In the US, you can write “RTS” (return to sender) if a letter was mistakenly sent to you and it will be returned. If it was intended for you, call the company that sent it and ask to be removed from their mailing list. It’s worth the time. My insurance agent sends me letters occasionally asking if I’d like additional insurance products. When I emailed him today, I learned that I can unsubscribe from all their mailings at once — so I did. No hard feelings. No more junk.
Unsubscribe from advertisements: I’ve debated canceling the Sunday paper for this reason: I look through all those ads and feel all angsty and full of want for things I don’t really need. Another kind of advertisement (and feeling) comes from catalogs. If you receive them and don’t like how you feel when you look at them, pick up the phone. You’d be surprised how helpful the sales agents are — and how accustomed they are to this request. Not only will you save the company the expense of sending future mailings, you’ll save yourself the time of processing them and leaky energy that could be put to better use.

As you can see, this process is more than just organizing time or paper. I invite you to create just enough structure — to cultivate an environment that replenishes your precious energy.

Starting with these steps will enliven you and give the gift of peace to your future self. When excess email, calls, and paper decrease, what could have room to grow?

In its place, invite in more of what you want

To deepen your sense of sacred boundaries, imagine drawing around you a circle of light or flowers or love or ocean sounds (or whatever touchstones nourish you) that provide a healing, expansive buffer for your spirit. Your creative space can be like this. In the place of distraction, you can invite focus. In place of overwhelm you can invite clarity. In place of depletion, you can experience a full heart.

Start small. Nurture your spirit. See what unfolds.

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Boundaries, continued

Did you ever have one of those “Okay, fiiiine. I’ll do it” moments? Someone wants something from you. You know that whatever is being asked is too much, but you say yes anyway?

Yup. Me too.

“Okay, fiiiine” is a way of permitting something into your life, into your calendar, into your mind. In the moment, it usually feels like you don’t have a choice. Your daughter didn’t work out a ride to dance class. Your spouse forgot to switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer. Your client needs to meet with you at a time of day when you’re kinda groggy and not on your game. You don’t want to, but you do it anyway.

Psst! It’s sacred.

Most people slip through this moment without realizing what’s just happened. Believe it or not, it’s sacred. “Okay, Fine” is an opportunity to honor your boundaries in relationship to time and to commitments. It’s a sacred moment when you’re given the chance to act toward your highest good.

The goal isn’t to say no to everyone, the goal is to recognize that you have a choice in that moment. To wake up to the possibility that the world doesn’t need to rest on your shoulders alone. If you can recognize this opportunity to choose, you can begin to develop your No muscle, your Work it out yourself and get back to me muscle, and your I accept this request and will gladly do it muscle. Powerful stuff!

Over time, requests for your attention, time and talent can fall into elegant categories. No, thank you becomes a viable answer. Resentment falls away. It’s as if you develop your own inner stoplight, complete with green arrows, blinking yellows, and solid red. You develop your own boundaries. People trust you more. You trust yourself more too.

Playing with “Okay, Fine” in your workspace

When you have too many Okay, Fines on your to-do list, your life can feel pretty crazy. When you have lots of Okay, Fines on your desk, it can look pretty crazy. I’m sure this isn’t news.

It can be really helpful to look at the sources. Sometimes things end up on your desk because you have a boundary you’re unconscious of or haven’t enforced. For example, there’s cat litter on your keyboard again — and you suddenly realize this bothers you. Or someone interrupts you while you’re working — and although you love them, you dislike their timing. Or you’ve gotten another one of those catalogs for the nth time — and realize you don’t want to keep shoving them around.

And remember that you have a choice.

Because you do. And it’s a sacred, precious thing.

The sneaky stuff that skips “Okay, Fine” entirely.

Lots and lots of stuff sneaks into our spaces before we even get to Okay, Fine it. It slips under the radar without our say-so.

Email, for example. Messages and invitations on Facebook. Free bonuses. Jury summons.

It’s sneaky stuff. For all intents and purposes, it looks like stuff you have to do. It piles up or comes unbidden and the assumption is that you have to do it all. Use it all. But you don’t, because you have a choice.

It might seem selfish to consider your needs first, but it’s not. In fact, by doing this, you’re modeling for others how to care for themselves and empowering them. It’s a double sacred gift: you grow more grounded and so do the people around you.

Turning off the hose

When you’re not sure how to choose or your boundaries are unconscious, it’s like a garden hose with no nozzle for regulating the flow. That sneaky stuff leaks (or sprays!) into your space without your consent.

Let’s say that you wanted to practice exercising this choice. One of the best tools in the Inspired Home Office lineup is the Wish Kit for helping you determine what you want in your workspace. This a powerful tool helps you practice using choosing and focusing on what you want (rather than what you don’t want). You begin to move forward quickly.

So start by thinking about what you want in your space – physically, energetically, emotionally, practically, and in terms of your boundaries. It could look like anything!

Once you have some clarity, you can set up some structures that honor your boundaries in your space. Here are a few ideas:

* Placing a beautiful cloth over monitor at the end of the day
* Having a door that closes
* Wearing noise-canceling headphones
* Asking for what you need (not be interrupted, bandwidth use)
* Proactively removing irritants – unsubscribing to newsletters, people who irritate you on Facebook or twitter, etc.
* Setting up email filters
* Setting up work hours and play hours
* Putting “buffer time” or transition time between activities
* Scheduling vacation time (even if you stay home)
* Culling out resources you no longer use that take up space
* Relocate the cat boxes to another room

These actions turn off the hose of frustration, resentment, and overwhelm. What boundaries would you like to establish in your own environment?

No matter where you start, know that establishing healthy boundaries, “letting your yes mean yes, and your no mean no” is a process. It takes time. Bring gentleness and curiosity to your process and you’ll see results in no time.

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I played two rounds of Monopoly® this weekend. I normally hate this game with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. I hate that it pits normally kind people against each other, transforming them into competitive jerks who wish ill on their friends. I hate that it brings out sneakiness and greed. It’s also one of the few games that, if you play well, goes on and on interminably. Sorry. Not interested.

However, we had an unopened National Parks version that intrigued me. It has lovely pictures of Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, many other places I’ve never been. The Chance cards were birds and animals. This was not the game I grew up with. And the game pieces? Adorable! I also discovered that there are several “fast game” options. So, I chose a hiking boot and a bicycle and played a round against myself.

Right away, I started rooting for Boot. Boot was a hard worker and Bicycle liked to coast through life. 30 minutes later, Boot had lost and Bicycle was barely ahead as the winner. In evaluating the first round, I noticed that Boot and Bicycle both purchased land and tents as soon as possible. They spent beyond their means of $200 per go-around. When disaster struck (like getting caught littering – a $200 fine), they were unprepared. Major tent repair caused Boot to lose.

As I reflected on the game later, I realized that these spending habits reflect my own relationship with money (not coincidentally). I started to wonder if I used some structure, some kind of rules to guide my spending, would the game last longer? Would I collect more national parks? Could I buy more tents?

I wasn’t looking to defile the national park system, I just started feeling curious. What could I learn about money systems from this game? On my second round the following day, I decided that Boot and Bicycle would be more discerning in their purchases. Collect properties you can afford, but nothing more than a quarter of your total cash. In addition, I set up a rule that they would reserve a $500 bill they weren’t allowed to spend, to create a cushion.

I started the game and immediately a trend showed up: Bicycle was luckier than Boot. Within the first half hour, Bicycle had won a fishing contest ($200), become a Junior Ranger ($60) and saved a rare bird species ($200). Boot had gone to jail twice (-$100) (I didn’t ask why), missed several opportunities to collect $200, and had to pay unexpected fees (-$300).

In a way, this variability is kind of like life. Sometimes things are lean. Sometimes you luck out. Having spare cash for the challenging times can tide you over. This time, neither side blew it. Despite the bad luck, Boot hung in there. I played for 2 hours with no sign of ending and I was actually enjoying myself.

No ending was foreseen, that is, until I walked away from the game for a snack. Our tuxedo cat, Pepper, lay down in the middle of the board and discovered that game pieces make fantastic toys. When I returned, my little domain was demolished. Game over. So, I counted up my cash. Boot: $1750, Bicycle: $2485. A win, but not a landslide. Interesting!

Despite everything I’ve said about Monopoly® before, this was a really fun experiment for improving my financial health. In my business this year, I’ve started thinking about creating spending and saving goals. I like the idea of creating some structures that encourage flow without increasing fear or scarcity.

• Create a cushion of cash that I simply don’t spend
• Save a larger portion of my income for taxes and unexpected expenses (like repairs)
• Continue to pay down debt aggressively, but not to the point where it affects cash flow for normal expenses
• Decide which tools would help me accurately see and understand my current financial position so I can make healthy decisions

I may never play another round of this game, but the lessons I learned were so useful, you could say I’m taking them to the bank! Running a business from my home office can be more effective if I have financial processes along with paper management, marketing, etc.

As a side note, some Monopoly affectionados have made a science of winning at Monopoly. I suspect there are some lessons that can apply to running a small business as well!

Have you learned about money structures or systems in fun ways? Feel free to share!

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Crossing the boundaries of your workspace

Bits of cat food on your chair. Your (insert relative)’s papers on your desk. Again. The noises from down the hall. Emails from a store you don’t frequent. What is that sticky stuff on the keyboard? Alone, they’re not a big deal. Combined, your workspace starts to feel scattered, overwhelming, and nothing like an oasis. It’s a place you want to escape from.

Many of my clients describe how unwelcome their space feels to them. When we talk one-on-one, I ask what boundaries have been established in their space and work flow. Often, people realize they’ve been adapting to the clutter, the intrusions, and the distraction. Most would prefer to avoid conflict about using the space. It’s just easier.

In the long run, having porous boundaries can affect how creative you are, how productive, how happy you feel, and how profitable your work is. Not only are boundaries useful, they’re vital.

40 days and 40 nights of practicing boundaries

I’ve been thinking about boundaries recently because the season of Lent is upon us. This year, I’m observing Lent as a 40-day spiritual exercise to help me become less attached to things that don’t nourish me. At the same time, I’m replacing those things with activities and choices that nourish my spirit.

So far, I’ve come to realize that the computer and internet access are a potent source of disconnection from spirit. It’s humbling. I use the computer for everything: the calendar, generating ideas, research, writing and er… lots and lots of fiddling. None of it is very spiritually nourishing and I noticed that I fall prey to the belief that the all-knowing Internet is God. It’s not. It’s a teensy speck of the Divine.

Lent requires boundaries — creative ones.

Based on past experience, I know it’s not enough to just decide not to use the computer for frittering.

A strategy helps. My strategy is to use the computer no more than 5 hours per day for only work-related work and scheduling. To give this resolution structure, I set 3 goals at the beginning of the day to accomplish and I’m using an online stopwatch (http://www.online-stopwatch.com/) to keep track of how long I’m using the computer.

Limiting access to the computer is only one part. I spent some time thinking about how and why I use the computer for frittering. Looking up obscure 80′s videos or reading about Oregon’s state bird on Wikipedia, for example. When I looked at this pattern compassionately, I realized that what I wanted and needed was a break. My brain was tired from work. I got curious about what else I might need – fresh air, a handful of almonds, a good long stretch. Research shows that taking these kinds of breaks allow us to work more productively. Considerably better than frittering.

During Lent, I’m developing my awareness for the times when I need a break. This will equal less computer time, but in a healthy, more holistic way. Granted, it’s only Day 1 of my doing this. We’ll see how I’m doing on April 21 when Lent officially ends.

Making boundaries visible

Humans are very visual creatures. In fact, our sight is our strongest sense. One of the things you can do to make your boundaries easier to honor is by making them visible.

For yourself: If you decided to use the computer less, you might give yourself a visual cue. Turning it off completely is one idea. I like putting mine to bed at the end of the day. I shut everything down and then cover it up with lovely green fabric. It’s not impossible to remove, obviously, but it’s enough of a visual cue that I don’t turn it back on.

For others: If you want family members to put papers in a specific area, give them something colorful to aim for. If you want to create a visual dividing line between your and your sweetie’s space, I’m a big fan of blue painter’s tape. It’s visible, not permanent, and inexpensive. With a little compassionate discussion, it can be a powerful tool to honor your space.

Taking it home

If you had to choose one area in your space that needed clearer boundaries, what would it be? Good candidates are any area that feels out of control or is a source of overwhelm. What would minimize or slow the flow? If you didn’t have that to contend with, what would you rather do in its place?

Boundaries continued

Later this month, I’ll be writing about how to know what your space boundaries are and ways to consciously honor them. You’ll get tools to bring some structure to the ideas you generated in the previous section. I’ll also keep you posted about my Lenten journey. Stay tuned!

Warmly,
Jennifer

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Discovering what fills you and how it affects your life

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Have you ever noticed that your workspace is a container?

Your space is a vessel that holds your ideas, your dreams, your projects and everything you bring to your work. When things are squeezed in to the point of over-fullness, it’s hard for the good to come in – new clients, new ideas, and even income. This kind of abundance can make your work harder and thwart your best efforts.

If you take a peek with me into the clutter clearing process, one powerful discovery my clients find is how their stuff originates from choices they make or defer making. Ideally, you bring compassion and gentleness to this awareness, not guilt or self-judgment. Acknowledging your role allows you to choose differently. It sounds simple, but it’s quite profound. You can begin to create a healthy barrier that determines what can come into your space (from you) and what stays out.

This act of choosing, over time, allows your physical work environment to become spacious. You begin to have room for inspiration, for Divine gifts, for the freedom and peace you crave.

Taking choice a step beyond

One of the reasons I struggled with clutter and overwhelm for so long is because I believed that I can and should handle everything myself. In my assessment, no one could do anything as well. I often had this tight, clench-y feeling in my chest that blocked out my ability to receive help.

Underneath my belief that “I do it best” was a whole lot of fear: of losing control, of making mistakes, and fear of trusting someone else. Along with that fear came a lot of resentment that no one was helping me. (Oh, the irony.) I can hardly blame them.

What resulted from this belief was a stressed-out, over-committed, unhappy body and one very empty, dried-up heart.

If you relate, I want to gently remind you that when you’re filled up with anxiety, the “I’ll do its” and frantic pace, there’s not a lot of room for love to come in.

If you do it too, please know that you’re not doing it wrong. You’re perfect and you’re doing the best you know how. Take a moment to feel some compassion for you. You have a lot on your shoulders.

You don’t have to carry it all.

You really don’t. In fact, you physically can’t. I’ve tried myself and failed many times. If you consider how large the world is and how populated — with over 6 billion people and trillions more animals and plants — you can appreciate the impossibility of the arrangement of handling it all yourself.

So gently bring in some curiosity. What can you set down? It could be something physical in your space that you want to release. It could also be a belief or an assumption that’s weighing on you.

Maybe you’d like to sit with these two questions or journal about them and see what comes up for you: What can I set down? What do I need? As you do this, practice curiosity and compassion with yourself.

Heartfelt sharing

I just spent two days in a workshop with Mark Silver. It was so grounding and insightful, I came home feeling emptied of my inner clutter and deeply, deeply refreshed. I’m no poet, but I felt inspired to write about my experience. I offer it to you with humility.

I am a vessel. Everything I have comes from the Divine in love. All my gifts and talents are God-given. They are a gift to me – and I am grateful.

This shell, the vessel that is my body needs preparation to hold these gifts. For when I am full of accelerating foods and fatigue-inducing foods, when I am full of mistaken beliefs about who I really am, when I’m full of all the things I’m supposedly responsible for, when I am full of interesting but distracting information,

the Love can’t get in. The Compassion can’t get in. Deep, abiding acceptance is blocked from my heart before it can enter. In this place, I feel fully overwhelmed and empty at the same time.

The vessel that is my body needs love and protection. It needs a veil that limits how and what I consume. The precious vessel of my body has a limited capacity to hold, so I must release those things that do not nourish me. I choose to hand over anything that divides me from Source.

A vessel of Divine gifts
A servant to others
A pilgrim on a journey of love for God, for others, of self.

I am one very small part of something much greater than me — and I am grateful.

If this sharing moves you, read it again and let the “I/me” words mean you.

There is a lighter path ahead

Every small step toward self-care and space-care leads to growth. If you feel intimidated by your space, find ways to bring curiosity to your heart’s needs. If that feels too big, start with something super-small.

Just know that it’s possible to choose spaciousness by starting with the physical (your stuff) or with your heart (your beliefs and needs). It only takes a moment to set something down and make space for the love to come in.

A final word

You are more than your clutter or what overwhelms you. You deserve to be free of any excess that you carry and feel deeply nourished. You deserve to know how much you are loved — for you are.

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

~ Rumi (2)

With love,
Jennifer

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