Hidden Child

There is a wild little child living in my house. He is unkempt so I shut the door on him when company comes.

He is called “Office.”

When I got my office I was excited. It was such a bright and happy place filled with potential. I’d be able to do everything there. Artwork. Sewing. Writing. Reading. Even playing the drums and keyboard.

It whispered to me, “Bring it in! Bring it all in. Fill these shelves? Ha! This filing cabinet? Never! Just look at this wide, empty floor. These flat empty surfaces.”

It lied.

I definitely have the paper monster in there, and he is having lots of progeny. Not only that, but thousand of pens live there, who are able to scatter like leaves in the wind when I really need them, leaving only their dried up cousins to confuse me. Boxes, books, newspapers, bags, water bottles. Odd things. More things than I care to list.

What is not in there is an empty shelf or an empty flat surface.

It’s not that I’ve never cleaned my office. I’ve tried hundreds of times. It just never stays that way.

On my latest attempt to get it together, I brought apple boxes and just pulled everything off the surfaces. To be sorted soon, of course. Oh, those yellow boxes were beautiful, stacked in several neat rows.

Only that morphing machine snuck in there and transformed it right under my nose. My wild child was back, only now all my beautiful yellow boxes were full too.

This year I’m taking my office by the throat and threatening it. Get in shape or else. I just hope it doesn’t say that right back to me, because I’m fairly thin-skinned. (Note to self: if an office can intimidate you, you might want to consider more counseling).

Or, I could try a more gentle approach: turn on soft music, light some candles and coax that clean little child to show its face. Maybe putting candles near untold stacks of paper is not such a good idea, but I’ll think of something.

You might be thinking the first thing I need is a plan.

You would be wrong.

The first thing I need is this little blog! See? I’m having fun cleaning my office already.

At any rate, I do still love my office. It is one place my creativity grows and glows and where I commune with friends and God. I look at its messy face and I see the wonderful haven it could be. I am determined by any means possible to make it that joyful place, until I can say, “Shine little office, Shine. I’m not ashamed of you any more.”

I’ll keep you posted.

What is your achievable dream this year?  Does it include an organized office?