I used to be a poet – thoughts and a teaser…

I used to be a poet. Attended workshops, co-edited some student-run creative magazines, participated in readings. Here’s the T. Rex in the room: “I used to…” Imaginative instincts never leave you. They just go fallow. I set myself a challenge, June 1, 2021, to start writing a poem a day. Haven’t come close!!! I have written a handful again. Quantity isn’t important, effort is. More important, much more, the challenge has gotten me looking around again, noticing colors, textures and all the rest even more than I’d tried for pre-“contest.”

And I’ve recently gotten a real camera – 42 buttons, hugely intimidating – to allow myself an outlet I’ve been curious about for years, and, bonus, to further some professional efforts. Calling that purchase a reach is well beyond understatement. I’ve got awful eyesight, depending on a camera is bizarre.

I’ve written, just a bit obsessively, about the value of creativity. I wouldn’t be even slightly surprised if my readers and clients wonder, frequently, why I don’t write “how to” tips, although, teaser – I’m trying to develop webinars with my perspective on those endeavors, so people who might not otherwise have access to services have an option. Simple answer to that unspoken question: I unflinchingly believe that it is even more critical for me to teach about tools which give people the mental and emotional stamina, flexibility, resilience, resolve, self-respect and joy to accomplish the really really hard work of decluttering, organizing and staying decluttered.

I promise, giving yourself something to take pleasure in absolutely helps focus. I repacked all my work cases over the weekend, restructuring everything. Where tools go, since I’ve got the paperwork bin, the trash/donate luggage, and the on-site case. What storage – sooooo ooooo I let myself have pretty things – my main painters tape is now in a bright pink tote. I’d put the grindingly dull chore off for weeks until I let myself have colors, appropriate shapes and textures.