If you are anything like me, you can walk past piles of things for months, maybe even years, before doing something about them. You may even add to the clutter by shoving things into a drawer, a cabinet or a closet – anything with a door or closure that prevents others from witnessing your mess. Full disclosure: I once had an entire room that I made a mess in because I could close the door and not see it.
But then, it gets to be too much. The mess becomes too much to bear and something has to be done.
This past weekend, I had that moment. I could no longer look at the jumble of shoes under the bed and the ever-growing pile of junk on the wooden chest in the kitchen. I had shoes that were well past their wearable date. I had an entire cabinet of stuff that made no sense to continue to store. I found wallpaper borders from 1990 in my bedside table drawer. What the hell were those doing there? Why the bedside table? Inexplicable.
All 32 of my dental aligners were in the cabinet as well. Why? There was no need to have them all (gross) – I have a retainer and the last aligners, just in case. So I tossed most of them. But I kept the first set of aligners. It is so gratifying to look at what was and compare to what is – the result of a long, slow, sometimes painful process. My mouth was a hot mess when I started out. My teeth were on top of one another, crooked and protruding. The misalignment of the lower teeth forced the upper teeth to move, too. Now, though, two years later, I have straight teeth, up and down. I laugh and smile more, now, too.
It occurred to me that my tooth-straightening journey was a parallel to my life’s journey over the last few years: I had felt like a jumbled mess in desperate need of order; one that would take deliberate, conscious steps and patience to correct. A slow but steady process. Discomfort, then change, then discomfort and change again and again until the desired results were met.
When I was given the opportunity to straighten my teeth, the cost barrier was removed for me – not entirely, but certainly most of it. I had already embarked on the the journey to lose what became a total of forty pounds – another slow and steady adherence to process. I had previously viewed my appearance as something that really didn’t matter. Who cared what I looked like? I was, after all, over 50 and a mother of three. Did it matter if my teeth weren’t straight? Who cared if I was forty pounds overweight? I exercised every day. I went to a trainer twice a week. But I also ate an entire sleeve of Ritz crackers while preparing dinner almost every night. I had a serious sugar addiction and there was no shortage of cookies in my house. I didn’t care. It was like the piles all over the house: I had no control over the spread, so why bother?
In retrospect, I was probably depressed. So many things seemed far out of my control – I was in a terrible job with a horrible boss. I had lost the one parent who had been my lifeline. I felt like the household expenses were never-ending. I couldn’t see that I actually did have control over some things; most directly, my own health and appearance. And then I saw a family photo where I was hiding my body behind my children. My face was a moon. My neck was fat. I had just three pairs of slacks that zipped. My suit jackets didn’t button. I was wearing larges, and even those were tight. Who the hell was that woman? Certainly not me! I did not recognize her. She was smiling but she was hiding. It made me angry that I had let myself go – I was going through the motions, but I had simply given up.
I do my best work when I am fired up, and this was no different. I got angry. And then I made a plan. Set goals. Established rewards for goals met. I tracked everything. And on my annual visit to the dentist that same month, I was given the opportunity to finally fix my teeth. There was an end game there, too.
My reward to myself was to get a drastic haircut once my weight goal was met. It was a half-measure, though – while I took about 4 inches off, it wasn’t as short as I really wanted to go. Truth be told, I was a little afraid. It takes time to build up personal courage after just going through the motions for so long. A few months (and minus 5 more pounds) later, I went for it. Chopped it all off. Was the most freeing thing I had done in decades.
I cleaned myself up. I got rid of every item of clothing that allowed me to lose myself. I didn’t work this hard just to go back. Never again. I religiously take care of my dental health. I honor my investment in myself.
And when I tackled those “hidden” corners of my house this weekend, I approached the work in much the same way. Got fired up. Made a plan. Had a clear vision of the end game. Threw away everything that had no business being in the piles to begin with.
There are still more piles to eradicate, more of that inner fire to tap into. But once action has been taken, the discomfort gives way to order. And order gives way to peace.
I don’t know about you, but I sure would enjoy a little more peace.
☮