Picking up

This photo sums up my life.  It doesn't get any simpler than this, a guide to organized living lying forgotten under a table.

I have good ideas, big ideas, good intentions.  I get excited.  I plan.  I make lists.  I buy supplies.  I think "I'm gonna do it".  I intend to do it.  And then I don't.

Why?

Life gets in the way.  I'm distracted by my kids.  I have to do this or that.  There is not enough time, not enough space.  I don't have the right supplies, the right plan.  Oooh something shiny.

My good intention, my big idea, lies forgotten like the magazine, collecting dust under a table.

Why?

I am unorganized.  I am so very unorganized.  I have things, too many things.  These things do not have homes.  When new things come in, old things do not leave.  The new things are piled on top of the old, balanced precariously.  Piles have piles have more piles. Things are shoved behind closed doors.

There is room in my home.  It is the office.  It was designed to be my creative space, space to write, to paint, to make jewelry.  I should feel pride in that space but I do not.  

Oh, that room.  I shut its door, I hope you don't see.  If you don't notice, its contents may disappear.  But, I know it is there.  It haunts me.  It paralyzes me.  I cannot fix it.

Why? 

Procrastination.  No.  Procrastination is just a five syllable word for sloth.  I am lazy.  There is no magic cure so I do nothing.  Doing something requires action, effort. 

Things stay as is.  Ideas collect dust.  Creativity withers.

Or maybe, just maybe, I could pick that magazine up off the floor