I bought a plastic cup. This goes against everything I believe, but I have become super tired of spilling everything in my car. I need to drink more water, we all do, but I was spilling more than drinking. So I broke and bought a cup with it’s own cover and straw. Wow, huge purchase!!!
I am trying to get rid of things and not add to the clutter…….but…..this purchase was meant to be.
It’s quite possible that I could have taken a swig out of this cup last night in the dark if not for my new sippy cup.
So there you have it. Beware of the creatures in the night.
A person can only be pushed so far.
I really do not know how people do it. How do people continue on peacefully when the world around them is crumbling?
Last week a young mother was shot dead in the middle of the afternoon. From what I understand there was a fight going on between two groups of girls. Someone pulled out a gun, shots were fired, and people ran away. This young mother was running away, to save her life. It didn’t work.
This was in a neighborhood of housing. People live there, sleep there, laugh there, feed their children and sing lullabies. Yet outside at any given moment someone can be shot dead in the middle of the afternoon.
I am so touched by this story, and so entirely confused as to why this violence is allowed to continue. Is it because these people are poor? Is it our cities failing to make security and safety a priority? Is it the crumbling school system, or the rarely existence family support? Is it caused by the onset of the gun culture? Or is it really because the rest of the city and surrounding suburbs just don’t give a sh*t?
We need to take a moment and wake the f*ck up.
Since writing this many months ago, a terrible shooting happened in a small quaint town of about 5000 named Chardon, not too far from Cleveland. One morning before classes started, three students were shot dead. A 4th student is recovering in the hospital and the fifth shooting victim is recovering at home. Three young people shot dead in cold blood by a 17 year old student.
I have pondered the effects of the school shooting and nothing I come up with makes any sense except that we the people have to start caring about each other. We need to teach kindness, and tolerance. We need to teach the basics of right from wrong in our homes. We need to be reminded that people can be cruel and bitter, but usually because they are in a painful place, and they need help. We need to do all we can to build bridges in stead of walls.
We need schools that are safe. And if that means we need police there, then put police there. If it means we need metal detectors then place the detectors are the door ways. We need to take bullying seriously, and we need to listen to our children, especially if they are saying something that sounds off-base or unusual.
We need to wake up to the fact that there are drugs in every school. It’s a fact kids drink and drive, and they have parties and drink their parents booze. Students cheat on test and make trades for homework, and just like always they have unprotected sex.
Parents need to get their heads out of the sand. School administrators need to be fair and consistent when enforcing the school codes. No more hiding the dirty little secrets.
We need to recognize that all students are not the same, some are gay and some students are homophobic. Students are every race and racism is alive and well in America. These are issues that continuously harm our society as a whole. And if we want it to change, each one of us has to personally stand up and say enough is enough.
Regardless of differences each child deserves an education in an environment that is safe physically and emotionally no matter what it takes. And they are not going to get it unless we demand it. They need us now, not later.
Start a conversation, let your voices be heard.
I can’t believe I have done it once again. I am setting myself up for one more let down only this time it’s going to be the U.S. court system that delivers the blow.
This poor guy, I imagine he is poor now. According to court records his 17 parcels are all on the chopping block. Well I decided to try to take one off his hands. This new possible house, I’ll call it No.3, is small. Not unlike the house in my original plan, the small house in my journey to living better with less.
Here’s the kicker; all offers must be approved by the court. So we put our offer in and wait. Thus giving me enough time to question myself, and ponder the pros and cons of this “maybe ” purchase.
No.3 is a small brick house with a pointy peak over the front door. Nothing I currently own will fit in this house, therefore I am going to literally have to get rid of nearly everything. Just like I said I was going to do before, but I still held on with a storage unit. I told myself it was because I didn’t know exactly where I would be living next. (still true, but I think I was holding one to our past life)
Until we hear back, I’ll spend my time on Apartment Therapy looking at ways to make small look wonderful. I’ll learn how to make form and function work with simple design and create spaces that fit our lives. This will be fun.
All this time, what I am really learning through this process is even if most things don’t work out eventually “some” thing will work out .
Then in creeps FUD; fear, uncertainty and doubt.
This house could be a bad decision, but then again, it could be a great decision. As we get older we can clearly see the trail we have left behind. Hindsight, that 20/20 bullsh*t that relentlessly gnaws at our psyche. For some reason seeing that old trail we’ve left behind leads us to believe we have the super-power see our path into the future. This is not good.
Thinking we know anything for certain about the future is ridiculous. These
thoughts beliefs can hold us back from looking things objectively, making changes, and it holds us back from taking risks. We are conditioned by events throughout our entire lives, and somehow we decide that however we saw things, that vision or” fact” should be set in stone. Oh yeah, that’s what happens when you do” this” or ” that.”
Twenty years ago, I would buy this house and never look back. It would be what it would be. And no matter what happened after the purchase I would never look back and say, ” I suspected, I imagined, I knew that would happen.” No, I would just accept it, whatever happened, and I would move-on to whatever happened to be next.
How limited is our exposure? Can you really say you’ve seen it all? Have I witnessed everything you have witnessed. Not a chance.
My point here is: forget about it. Our minds are powerful, take the expiration off your brain and live again.
There’s an entire world of possibilities out there, just waiting.
Tip: Follow your instinct even if everyone disagrees. Repeat as necessary.
Inspiration:“People are disturbed not by things, but by the view they take of them.”~Epictetus
One-day one-thing: Correct negative thoughts in your brain when they happen, don’t dwell in fear.
Well the bird food was all eaten, and there were mice droppings everywhere. I am referring to the garage. So gross.
I am a painter who doesn’t paint at the moment. But I have an abundance of art and painting supplies stored all over the place. I have been waking earlier, that has been good, and getting enough sleep, but I still find my self running like a mad woman. So today I took on the garage in a couple areas, canvases and large framed photos, and one heavy box of documents.
I decided after seeing the sunflower seed shells and mice droppings that I best get anything that wasn’t completely sealed out of that nasty garage.
Notice the top right corner of the file box has been chewed. I didn’t do that. Look at all these ridiculous papers, I don’t even know the years, maybe 2006, 2007,08 ? This box was packed full with hanging file holders containing labeled manila folders which were holding these worthless statements and paid bills, for years. It weighed a ton.
I decided to move all these various boxes, holding the papers, canvases, and framed photos to my office, where I could sort in peace. Plus I am attempting to get all my art supplies in one area, the corner of my work office.
I had to use a hand cart, dolly whatever they are called. Four trips from the car to the elevator to the office. I worked on the box filled with papers first. Out of the entire box I kept only one paid medical bill. One piece of paper. That’s it.
My shredder started acting up, but I got it going again. It made a huge mess in the meantime. I feel bad for making such a mess and leaving it, but we don’t have a vacuum at the office. It will have to wait for the cleaning crew. It’s good thing they are really laid back, every day is good to them. “Better than Russia,” they say.
All is good, I am working away so next I tackle the canvases, and large framed photos. They were in boxes that I needed for something else, so I was emptying them. I got to the third one and I SCREAMED. I’m embarrassed to say this but when I see mice I scream. It’s an immediate and involuntary reaction. Especially when they are jumping around frantically. I was lucky I could shut the box in time. I held it closed with one hand and searched for tape the other.
I had to get this mouse out of my office, out of the building and out of this box.
I felt much better once I taped the box shut. I relaxed a bit and I began to feel sorry for the little creature. I decided to chauffeur the mouse back his home in the garage, at least if he had family or friends he could stay with them. The
city high-rise seemed like certain death for the little guy. ( look at his scared worried little eyes…awe )
So that was my day, more or less.
My take away – if you have anything stored outside or in areas where there could be mice, there will be mice, and all your “stuff” is on it way to quickly becoming garbage. I found a pair of shoes that the mice ate. Shoes! Who eats shoes? Those mice were likely making their condo out of shoes parts.
Another thing I will suggest since the New Year is coming; buy a cheap accordion file labeled by month or alpha however you like to file bills and such. Mark it 2012, boldly. Only put items in this accordion that are records you can throw away next New Year’s Eve. Do not mix important papers, cards, photo or notes with worthless statements and bills. Repeat that to yourself [really for me] – Don’t mix important things with worthless statements and bills. Prepare to destroy this self-contained file in a celebratory fire or toss it at the dump. You can seal it closed with duct tape if you worry about identity theft. Personally, I pity any soul who ever steals my identity, that would be a real bummer for them.
I’m feeling more optomistic and much more focused on moving in the direction of my dreams. I guess that’s what people mean when they say the most important habit to have is to be pro-active.
If I can get back on track so can you. No excuses. Remember you only have to do one-thing each day! Cheers!
Tip: If you have to store items, invest in heavy duty Rubbermaid containers. If your stuff isn’t Rubbermaid “worthy,” do not save. :)
Inspiration: ” First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.” ~ Epictetus
One-thing one-day: Plan your dream; doodle it, make notes about it, cut out articles that support it and keep it all together in a place you can look at it every so often, make a ” My Dream Project “
The answer: zero.
A brand new journal sat before me. I longed to pour my heart out on the pages so that some day I could see where I had been and how deeply I felt. I wanted nothing more than to fill my journals with beautiful words that would read like a novel. I created images in my mind of sipping tea and peacefully writing by candlelight, no less.
I was delusional.
Journal-ing became huge when my children were in grade school. They started at the third grade level and I thought it looked like a good idea. So I attempted it. I think my longest consecutive journal-ing lasted four days, tops.
When I was a kid, I was given a diary and told, “Never put anything in writing that will come back to bite you.” Well that wasn’t any fun, so I wrote in code. A code that means absolutely nothing to me now, pure gibberish.
What I carried forward into my adult life from that was fear. The fear of putting things in writing. My fear extended into me sharing very little, being secretive and guarding my thoughts. I admit, I am a very private person. But maybe it stems from the intense code of secrecy I was taught to live by.
( in all honesty I never even considered that before writing this – that’s the light bulb here)
The really funny thing is no one really cares what someone else thinks or writes, especially when it’s in their journal hidden in a drawer under lock and key. So write to your hearts content, tell stories, write about your dreams, swear, use slang, forget grammer – it doesn’t matter at all.
I have collected all my partially filled journals. I am not even going to read them. I am letting go, yet again. Letting go of one more belief that held me back. It feels good.
Tip: Question authority.
Inspiration: “Truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a time, but it ain’t goin’ away.” ~Elvis Presley
One-day one thing: Sort old documents, letters and cards. Paper clutter is among the worse, because it lingers and grows when you are not looking.