> back to Third Hand Works | Newsletters
 |
||||||||
|
Get In Gear Newsletter
|
||||||||
a note from Cairene
|
||||||||
classesthe true discipline of time management the organic business manual bite the candy
|
||||||||
decluttering your calendarOftentimes, people bring the task of sorting stuff to Bite the Candy. It's not surprising - sorting stuff is something we all procrastinate about doing from time to time. Even if we're pretty vigilant about what we acquire and clean up our messes as we go, there are still piles that inevitably accumulate. And what came up in last month's session is just how stubborn and surprisingly emotional some of those piles can be to sort through. One of the best insights I've ever come across about why we hang on to our stuff is that we associate particular objects with our identity. For instance: in the process of cleaning out the garage, you might realize you should really let go of those water skis - you haven't used them in years - but you can't bring yourself to do it. You were really good at the sport and had a lot of fun doing it. It's not just fond memories of people and places you loved, it's the recollection of skill and pride that keeps you holding onto those skis. In letting them go, you fear not only losing those memories, but also any chance of water skiing or being a water skier again. So they stay. In my own case, I have a devil of a time sorting through any kind of accumulation of art supplies or unfinished art projects. In part, it's a habit acquired long ago as an art student. In that context, I never purged what might be useful. I couldn't afford to. But beyond that, letting go of materials feels like letting go of who I am. To pass on that gouache is to relinquish all that I became when using it. Never mind that I never learned to like the stuff and haven't used it in years (for all I know it's dried in the tubes). Yet I can't let go of it because then I wouldn't be an artist. Same with the student flute that's been kicking around since high school. I never really enjoyed playing it in the first place, but to let it go would somehow mean never playing music on any instrument ever again. It's illogical, I know. But that's how our minds work. Here's another. During a quick purge of my closet a couple weeks ago, I tossed a couple pairs of jeans in the outgoing pile of clothes - but with a twinge. I was getting rid of them because I never liked how they fit to begin with, but they are also a size too small. And whenever I give up clothes that are too small I feel like I am giving up on ever being a healthy weight again - that I will somehow no longer be a healthy person. Again, it's illogical. Those pants don't have anything to do with what I eat or how much I move from this point forward. But my mind nevertheless associates the two. It's the same when our schedules become too crowded with stuff. Activities pile up and when we go through them to sort out what we no longer need, we come up against things we'd like to give up doing or change in some way - but they are so strongly associated with how we've come to see ourselves, we can't release or shift them. At least, not without some struggle and introspection.
Change this stuff up and suddenly you're no longer an expert, self-sufficient, a good parent or neighbor, loyal, a believer, helpless, or disciplined. So, much the same separation of the thing from one's identity is required to let go of activities as the physical stuff. Reframing it might look like this:
Ceasing activities that no longer light you up or serve their intended purpose does not undo past accomplishments or prevent future ones. In fact, just as with removing clutter, clearing unwanted activities creates space for those desired experiences to come into your life. So, the next time you find yourself doing something you don't really want or need to do, ask yourself how you can let it go and still be the person you want to be. • • • • • If "Will I still be me if I stop doing X?" is the sort of experiment in rule-breaking that appeals to your inner-rebel, please join us for the fall session of The True Discipline of Time Management. Registration closes Tuesday, September 8.
|
||||||||
recently on the blogWhat do you want to be thankful for? | yes, I'm planning for Thanksgiving now
|
||||||||
let's chatLike what you've read? Irked? Confused? Have a suggestion? Got a question? Let's start a conversation. I'd love to hear from you - send me a line, comment on the blog, or follow me on Twitter.
|
||||||||
subscription infoI encourage you to share this newsletter with people you think may enjoy it. When doing so, please forward it in its entirety, including my contact and copyright information. Thanks! If you received this issue of Get In Gear from a reader and would like your own subscription, please click here. To update your email address or unsubscribe, please click the link at the bottom of the newsletter. An archive of past issues of the Get In Gear newsletter can be browsed here. Unless otherwise attributed, all material is written and edited by Cairene MacDonald. Cairene MacDonald from overwhelmed to ready for anything Third Hand Works | administrative guidance for independent creative professionals |
