I love reading decorating and design blogs. I pour over the words. I pin all the pictures. And then I dream, "wouldn't it be lovely to live in a house like that ...", "if only my house ..."
After staring at my screen dreams, I look up and see reality. Things are on the floor. Papers and junk cover the surfaces. It causes anxiety. I need to clean. Right now. I need to fix all of this. Right now. But there is so much to do, where do I start. I could start here in the living room. But if I pick up a toy and return it to it's rightful room, I then get distracted by the mess there. I must clean that. Right now. And when it's time to return something to it's rightful place from that room, the cycle starts all over again.
So I'm left with a messy house with a few things put away in their rightful places. I've thought about options, I've researched, I've read books and they all do the exact same thing. They cause more anxiety.
So I stop. I look. I think.
The couch, with pillows and blankets askew, may look messy but just a few minute it held my children playing a game together. That, in and of itself, is something of a minor miracle. So I can look at it and smile. The couch served it's function as a gathering place, warm and inviting, holding and providing comfort for those I love. It makes my heart sing just a little bit. I can accept that mess, no need to start there. The anxiety lessens just a bit and I can focus my energy on things that need to be done.
After staring at my screen dreams, I look up and see reality. Things are on the floor. Papers and junk cover the surfaces. It causes anxiety. I need to clean. Right now. I need to fix all of this. Right now. But there is so much to do, where do I start. I could start here in the living room. But if I pick up a toy and return it to it's rightful room, I then get distracted by the mess there. I must clean that. Right now. And when it's time to return something to it's rightful place from that room, the cycle starts all over again.
So I'm left with a messy house with a few things put away in their rightful places. I've thought about options, I've researched, I've read books and they all do the exact same thing. They cause more anxiety.
So I stop. I look. I think.
The couch, with pillows and blankets askew, may look messy but just a few minute it held my children playing a game together. That, in and of itself, is something of a minor miracle. So I can look at it and smile. The couch served it's function as a gathering place, warm and inviting, holding and providing comfort for those I love. It makes my heart sing just a little bit. I can accept that mess, no need to start there. The anxiety lessens just a bit and I can focus my energy on things that need to be done.
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