The man who performed the wedding of my brother and sister-in-law last week said something that stuck with me: you create your world, and then you have to live in it.
So . . . I created the world in which the kitchen walls are covered with food splashes, grimy fingerprints, and who knows what else? I created the world in which you get granola crumbs on your feet if you step near the table? I created the world in which you can’t sit on the couch without sitting on a stack of books?
Okay, most of those things I did not cause to happen, but I do, occasionally allow them to exist when it’s my responsibility to . . . not allow them to exist.
And so it was that when I got home from Utah, Micah and I emptied out one of the bookcases we’ve been wanting to get rid of for years, divided books into various donation piles, tied up old magazines to be taken out the curb for recycling and . . . left all those stacks sitting on the floor. And then we remembered why our kitchen walls are rarely clean, why we can’t seem to vacuum up the granola fast enough, why the books overtake the couch day after day.
But at least we are a couple of steps closer to clearing out some clutter and making our world a nicer to place to be.
(I know the statement also applies to the environment of your relationships and such, which is, arguably, more important than the environment of your possessions, but I feel that my relationships are a in a much better state than my apartment and, well, you’ve got start somewhere . . . .)