I can tell when my husband is feeling energetic because he starts clearing everything in his path.

He clears his desk of extraneous paper. He hangs up clothes. He especially starts washing things in the kitchen. One load of dishes and random utensils. Another load of leftover pans. Another wash of plastic containers and cooling racks left over from holiday baking.

Magically, the neglected counter space is now clear and breathing freely after days and weeks of being gunked up with leftover detritus.

When I say breathing freely, that's what it feels like. It's a breath of fresh air, so to speak. When your glance falls upon it, all you can see is exactly what needs to be there, no extra items to snag your eye. No pile to make the eyes glaze over with confusion.

Even better, any new clutter clearly does not belong. It was finally easy to toss the old birthday candles, the random new cookie tin, and the gifted spicy candles. (Why do candles pile up so? Maybe because they might be useful. Some day. Even if you kinda hate pine/cranberry/pumpkin spice-scented candles.)

Also, he's been baking bread again - every three or four or five days - since we got the fabu dough mixer. Having fresh bread daily is very nice, but the way we set up the space makes it all easy. We rearranged the space to allow the mixer and bread flour to have a permanent place on that one section of counter, so it doesn't get cluttered up so much any more. A wooden cutting board lives there too, with the bread knife and the bread itself. So no more tolerance for random jars or lids or stuff that we aren't sure whether we should wash or throw away. They get swept up every other day.

Now I'm no slouch. I keep dinner and dishes moving along every day. But when someone takes it upon themselves to clear the things you've been putting off, it is a delightful surprise.

This morning I went into the kitchen to find yet another counter top clear. And the sink was all shiny. Clear space! Ah, beautiful clear space. The kitchen cleaner has struck again, bless him. I wonder if I can get him to do floors.
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Right Number, Right Purpose, Right Place

The Unclutterer blog has a great post up contemplating a one-versus-many idea of possessions.

"In theory," he writes, "we only need one pair of scissors." But in practice, we find that it's more convenient to have multiple pairs for multiple purposes and in multiple locations. The comments have lots of fun discussion about how people like to purpose their scissors.

Yes, you can get by with only one, but more of one can be very convenient. Convenience is valuable too.

I am very happy to contemplate this idea that sometimes more is better, at least to the degree that you have what you need, when and where you need it.


I've also experienced a well put-together work bench or project station, and how beautifully it contributes to productivity.

For instance, one place and career I worked, I had my own station and my own set of tools, one of everything I needed. I could reach out almost without looking and grasp exactly what I needed. After I was done, I put everything back in its place, ready for the next job.

Sure, there were more than one of most things, and specialized tools for particular jobs. The specialized gear was located in a central location, each in its specified spot, so that any of us could retrieve and put away as necessary. Everyone had at least one of the more basic tools so that no one would have to hunt or trade off while in the middle of a project. Of course, some people had more than one of a thing, and the bosses regularly borrowed one, leaving it who-knows-where. (Cue the screams of frustration: aaaiiigh!) My coworkers were not so picky about the organization of their stations, but I would growl at anyone who tried to run off with my tools (before, not after, they might have lost it). I'd rather not to waste time thinking about tracking down each thing as I needed it.

I find that a similar approach at home keeps me happy there as well.

Over the years, I've steadily moved items to the location where they are most likely to be used. So things like my tape, stapler, stamps, scissors, pens, thumbdrive, etc are right there in front of me within arms reach. No need to "dig them out." Other office supplies are stored in descending order of need. The printer, address book, and screw driver only require that I stand up. I bend down when I have to retrieve more paper for the printer. Any electronics chargers are in the closet in their designated spot - no getting lost in some dark corner. Also in the closet is a modest but highly organized caddy that keeps everything from paperclips and extra pens to watercolors and craft tools. My massive canvas stapler and ink brayer are stashed waaaaay back in a box of art tools I might need in the next couple of decades.


So. Back to the scissors. Yes, I've got 'em.

Three pairs in the kitchen. One for general papercutting and mucki-muck use. A second for food-related cutting tasks, such as cutting open a package of cheese or whatever. Then a heavy-duty kitchen knife that I use for cutting anything tough or stinky (because I can take it apart and send it through the dishwasher if necessary).

I have at least three pairs in the office. My fav is a very nice mid-sized pair of Mundial sewing scissors. I keep them in the pen-and-tool cup on my computer station. I have a pair of those Fiskars edgers that give a neat pattern edge to a piece of paper. I have a pair of nail scissors from my childhood, just because, and a little bitty pair of old fashioned scissors that came from one of the family farms. Plus a big box cutter and random blades from my art&design years.

In the bathroom, we have two pairs of scissors - my husband's mustache trimmer that I also use for trimming my hair, and a pair of "bandage scissors" with blunt ends.

In my stash of sewing gear I have three pairs. My really nice fabric scissors (Mundial again), a tiny thread trimmer pair (Mundial rocks!), and somewhere, my very old pair of fabric scissors that I acquired when I was a youngster first learning to sew. I suppose I should get rid of them, or maybe save them for when my daughter wants to start her own sewing projects when I'm not willing to let her use my good fabric scissors! (My mother was picky about the scissors designated for cutting fabric versus paper; I picked up that from her.) I also have a fabric cutting wheel blade.

Somewhere in the basement is the pair of medical scissors in the first aid kit we take backpacking.


So I feel content with this number of scissors in my life because I have just what I need where I need it. I don't have to go hunt down a particular pair for a particular purpose - it is already where I need it. And I don't foresee needing any new scissors except for a kid's version when the kiddo gets old enough to responsibly hack up construction paper.


I don't feel content with the number of flashlights I have.

Flashlights are one of those items that we always feel we need more of, only to realize that we already have too many! I think it's partly that their roles are NOT well defined, other than having a couple in a certain drawer (in case of power outage), bitty ones on our keychains (for dark driveways), and a headlamp (for camping and doing work in the attic).

That doesn't count the flashlights that people keep giving us as gifts (so useful, so cool! I can imagine them saying), and the cool stuff that we find ourselves infatuated with. Compact book lights are a particular weakness; I've told myself I have the best one already, No More! So we have a moratorium on flashlights.


I can imagine it would be a useful exercise to write out the number of a given item and the purpose of each. Is it indeed what you need? Does it fulfill its purpose? Is it where it will be best used?

Although some people are put to sleep by such details, I find this kind of meta-contemplation incredible invigorating.

Shoes: eleven, closet. Melon baller: one, kitchen drawer. Tents: uh, do we have to go there?

Self reflection gives me feedback about how I am living my life. So it's not only useful, but it's fun! (Bonus - I often get blog posts out of it. Wait - that might actually account for most of my blog! heh.)


I enjoy discovering new ways to streamline and enhance my life. So yes, I am working to get rid of clutter. Indeed I've got an extra set of kitchen knives in my donation box right now. And that pair of shoes that doesn't fit anymore, etcetera.

Clearing away what is not especially useful allows me to see what really works, not just in my kitchen or in my office, but in my life. And sometimes that means I need more of something. But in just the right place for just the right purpose. Cool. Must go contemplate some more.
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Down Time from the Digital Roar

Just after writing about the Digital Detox Week, I came across this interesting article in the Unclutterer blog echoing some of the same ideas I have been thinking about managing ones focus and creative time. Organizing the Creative Mind by guest blogger and author Scott Belsky. I love the title, even. Doesn't it sound so warm and encouraging? Yes, it is possible to organize the creative mind!



It seems he has a book as well, Making Ideas Happen, which also sounds worth finding.

He offers several observations about how you might "organize projects and manage your energy" to make your ideas happen.

This article is chock-full of inspiring ideas, but the one idea that really hit me, especially in regards to the Digital Detox Week, is how we have been conditioned to be "reactive" with our energy - responding to endless input - rather than proactive. To avoid getting sucked into the vortex of incoming emails, messages and other contact, he says,

some people schedule “windows of non-stimulation” in their day. For a 2-3 hour period of time, they minimize their email and all other sources of incoming communication. With this time, they focus on a list of goals – not their regular tasks, but long-term items that require research and deep thought

I am reminded of some kinds of meditation in which one sits quietly and quiets the mind so as to notice what ones deeper self might have to say. Who can hear the whispers of our soul beyond the shouting of the demands of our life?

The internet is endless stimulation of one sort or another. Expand that to include all digital devices, and it's clear many of us live thoroughly washed in a dull roar (or deafening shout!) of input. Who can hear quieter whispers beyond all that input? Not me.


Perhaps I am so smitten with this description because it seems to frame the unplugging as a respite from the onslaught. Unplugging for a while is not just a nice idea; it's necessary "down time."

I'm looking forward to pursing other projects that have nothing to do with the digital world. Maybe I will look about me with new eyes. Perhaps I will put my hands on real life projects, something with texture and heft and scent. Perhaps I will find mental space to think about deeper issues in my life. How is my life going? What new goals are pushing forward for attention? Perhaps I will take more naps and laze about on the couch. Sleep is always good.


Scott also writes about what he calls insecurity work, those "small repetitive actions don’t help you make ideas happen.....just help you feel safe." Yeah, I'll check email one more time, look for an update one more time. I can see how that would chew up lots of energy and time. It's likely that the smaller the distraction, the more ultimately time consuming it is because one doesn't even notice the minute bits of energy put into them. They add up without one even noticing.

My hope for unplugging includes being more aware of how I use my digital time. Am I just spinning my wheels? How much of what I do is actual productive time? When I'm conscious of what I am doing, I have to admit that much og what I do online amounts to nervous tics of faux productivity.


I'm still a little nervous about unplugging. What if something comes up that really needs my attention? What if somebody really needs to get my answer on something? What if I am overrun with emails while I am gone? What if my sister or friend needs me? What if...?

It's a good thing to notice, huh? What energy am I losing feeling anxious about keeping plugged in? I'm thinking that whatever it is that's landing in my inbox, certainly nobody is dying, or losing money or sleep over it, so I might as well let it go for a while.

I was just gifted with fresh strawberries. I'm think I'll start the week with pie.
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Household Tides

After nearly ten years in this house, we and our stuff have gotten rather set in our ways.

If you've spent a length of time in one location, you can guess how it goes. Things pile up, and after the initial arrangements, one rearranges every so often. Sometimes one has had to rig up temporary solutions to permanent problems or rearrange a new version of what we think we want and can get away with. After a few years, they become what passes for a permanent situation (not always happily, but that's another story). Next thing you know, years have gone by, and it's all cobbled together and who knows what is really necessary.

Well, I'm finding that a little kitchen redo is a good excuse to rethink everything. Now that I have a small portion of something like permanent storage, I can reshuffle. Or at least, reshuffle and reorganize temporarily. Ha.

I moved items out of old storage into new storage. Things like baking ingredients and mixing bowls, herbs and oils, canned goods and food storage containers.

I move some items out of old storage into temporary storage. Things like teas and mugs and baking dishes.

I move some items out of very temporary storage into new temporary storage. Things like pasta and dried beans and aluminum foil.


Why all these temporary locations? I don't have all my permanent storage yet! But it's been very interesting, in all my rearranging, resorting and resettling, inadvertently finding out what is important and necessary, and what is relatively irrelevant.



I wrestled the large blue (heavy!) tub of items that used to be in the wire shelving UP, from the basement, and retrieved some important food stuffs from that very temporary location and put them where I can get them. Which is relatively temporary, because when the electricians will come in and finish up the new outlets, I'l be moving it all aside. At least temporarily!

More to the point, now that I've retrieved my "important" things, and even more importantly, put them in prime locations, I'm interested to note what is left. A variety of very nutritious but little used dried seaweeds. A jar with the remains of bulk chili mix. A hanging wire basket for root vegetables. Storage jars.

Does it all need a place? Or do I even need them at all any more? Some items sit in semi-permanent temporary storage. Does that need to be moved to a more accessible spot? Or just permanently thrown away? Hehe, well that's the question, isn't it?

It's an interesting exercise for nearly anything: lovingly arrange what is truly important and look very critically at the rest. What do you really need and love?

This is how I finally realized that we could get rid of that second set of old knives.

And then there is the small room's worth of stuff that we hurriedly yanked out of what was to become the baby's room. It's all still floating about the house like the trash island of the Pacific, except in smaller clumps.

Nothing is permanently tied down just yet, but.... the tides of the household are shifting around. It'll be interesting to see what ends up where, and what is left washed up and abandoned. Every week, I start another trash bag of items to throw away and another box of items to give away. Nope! Don't need that!
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