(This is an excerpt from an article I just released in my e-newsletter. Want a copy? Get it here)
I am going to tell you about cleaning up my clutter, baby.
I’m really telling you the secret of making seven figures in the work you love. I’m telling you how to get to Bali. Or figure out who you are, now that you no longer fit in your skin. I’m telling you how to move on from the one whose name must never be mentioned, though you mention it way too much.
Really, this is about going past the ‘all or nothing’ syndrome and onto the easy track of having everything, well, eventually.
My home office resembled a nice, homey, junkyard for years, accented with tasteful teal walls. I’d answer the phone acrobatically, thank God for yoga. I knew exactly where the slip of paper with the red dot was, though to others my desk looked like the remains of a parade, after the windstorm, tornado, and apocalypse. I am a lover of potential. Others say, a clutter freak. But we’re splitting hairs.
For years, I swore I’d sift, sort, and jump into current time. One Friday night, armed with meditation and gospel music, I finally decided to tackle a fat pile and the contents of a desk drawer. I dumped everything on the floor. It looked like a whale or planet had thrown up. The debris was CD covers, half started articles, a ring I meant to fix, scraps of images for art projects, bank statements and disintegrated “important” phone numbers. I was doing fine, until I had the thought, “this is going to take so much longer than I thought.”
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