Sometimes, I feel like I need to wipe everything clean; to toss out the (proverbial!) baby with the bath water. Sometimes I purge my closet. Other times I viciously thin my shelf, or the condiments in the fridge. Sometimes I skip through my social media and block/unfollow/hide anyone who routinely makes me eye twitch. Sometimes I tear apart my calendar and only add back the components that are necessary and/or bring me happiness.
I think we all have these feelings at some point, right? Something gets too sticky, too tangled, or too murky and in a fit of rage, or clarity, or exasperation we take ourselves to task until it is sorted, smoothed, tidied, and put into order.
I don’t know if it’s the cabin fever brought on by Arizona summers, or if it’s some mounting dissatisfaction with [redact redact redact], or even lingering loose ends on my move from Salt Lake last December. I feel trapped and stuck and like so many things are tangled and murky.
And, after weeks or months of this back-burner murk continuing to grow and tangle my front-burner life…I want to burn everything to the ground and start from scratch.
Ok, that is super dramatic.
But I do have a SERIOUS hankering to tear everything apart and just start over. I want a blank slate. Of course, not everything is in need of purging. In fact, most components of my life are on the up and up, most things are better than they have been in years, or ever. Most of the biggest, most important pieces are messy around the edges, but with a solid and carefully balanced core.
Here’s the problem with throwing everything out and starting over: it is not very economical. Throwing away the good and the great with the needs-a-lot-of-improvement is to dismiss weeks or years of work in a fit of less than responsible behavior. It’s harder to pick apart the seams and start over, but it certainly is the more responsible option. I’m not only talking about money, I’m talking about time, effort, energy, and emotions that are already invested in a person, project, or dream.
Setting everything on fire will not conjure a beautiful, perfectly formed and mature Phoenix to rise from the ashes. It just leaves you with a pile of smoldering ashes. You still have to shovel them up, sweep them away, and then start building again.
And so, maintaining some annoying-but-essential-for-now Interweb vaguery, it is time for me to dismantle some pieces of my life, cut away the excess and the rotten, and then retrench in a cleaner, simpler, more sustainable plan. I need a clean slate.*
*For the record, it’s a lot easier to do this on your own, proactive terms, instead of trying to respond to outside influences. Mr. Blue Eyes and I have run all the options, made the spreadsheets, weighed pros and cons, and are ready to embark on Harriet
2.0 7.0 together. I’m so glad to have him on my team.