Are you caught up in the feng shui craze? Are you able to organize and de-clutter the space around you in order to create the “perfect peace?” I confess, I am enamored with the whole feng shui – organization - clutter free craze. The problem is – I never seem to be able to pull it off. Every attempt I make to de-clutter my life seems to do nothing more than make it more hectic, distracted, and, yes, I admit it, plain old messy. In a misguided attempt to hide this failure, I tend to react to any insinuation that my house is less than pristine with a surprised "mess, what mess?"
Lest you feel I’m overreacting, allow me to describe a few feng shui blunders in my home right now. I’ll begin in the kitchen. I have always had a love-hate relationship with my Tupperware. Not particularly thrilled with cooking, I love my Tupperware and the ease with which I can warm up frozen vegys or store extra leftovers from last night’s takeout in the fridge.
The problem, of course, is the ugly pile of Tupperware stashed in the cupboard under my microwave. Yes, I had originally neatly nestled each piece within the next larger container, and carefully arranged the lids by size in the drawers above. I now, however, open the cupboard and pitch the cookware across the room from the dishwasher in the general direction of the cupboard, grateful when the pieces fit without me having to shove the door closed with my foot. The lids are jammed in the drawers in no particular order, and there are more Tupperware containers than not that I can’t even find the matching lid. Many of the lids remaining are the partners to containers which have long ago become storage receptacles for matchbox cars and fast food toy surprises.
Yes, I’m ashamed to admit that my feng shui attempts for peace in the Tupperware cupboard have led to nothing but chaos in the kitchen. I wish I could say my disgrace ended there. But I wouldn’t be honest. No, sadly my feng shui deficiency carries much farther – right down the hall to the bedroom.
Over the years, I have always had trouble maintaining peace among my clothing. My drawers start out neatly organized between lingerie, slacks, socks and pjs - but somehow always jumble up into a huge commotion. And since becoming pregnant, the situation has gotten completely out of hand.
It started out innocently enough. I was having trouble fitting into my “normal” clothes, and so I dug into the basement boxes for my “bigger” clothes. But rather than make a clean break of my normal clothes, I instead stacked the bigger clothes onto the dresser top and slowly transitioned them in.
As my normal clothes no longer fit (me or the drawers), I should have neatly stored them away in a nicely marked box in the basement until next year when I’ll be able to wear them again. Instead, I piled them up in a corner to take care of later.
Time marched on, and soon even the bigger clothes were not big enough. Out came the maternity clothes, but of course there was no room in the drawers for them. Again, I foolishly chose the transition method of clothes sorting rather than make a clean break of it.
What is the result? A bedroom that is a feng shui nightmare. There were stacks of clothes in varying sizes strewn everywhere. I finally grew sick of it the other day and brought up some empty boxes from the basement. It was wonderful! The open spaces surrounding me in the bedroom brought instant peace and tranquility back to my life (not to mention I actually found a book I’d been missing hiding under a pile of t-shirts).
Sadly, however, I only postponed the problem because I arbitrarily threw clothes into the boxes, with no attempt to separate the normal from the bigger sizes. This summer, when I’m ready to transition back to my bigger clothes, and eventually my normal clothes, I’m sure the horror will begin anew.
Will I ever become proficient at feng shui? Will I find the peace I long for in a clutter free home and perfectly organized sock drawers? I doubt it. Instead, I’ve decided to follow my husband’s recommendation. Last weekend, as I was ranting about the piles of junk mail on my kitchen table and the tiny toy cars on my living room carpet, he gave me some profound advice. “Sue, there is only one difference between you and me. I am a slob. You are a slob who notices. The answer is to just stop noticing!” Okay, probably not a long term solution, but until Alice from the Brady Bunch comes knocking on my door, I think I’ll take his advice. Anyway, what mess?
