Welp. I didn’t wait for spring to begin rearranging and organizing my living space. I’ve suffered far fewer minor injuries than usual in the process. Being present in my body helps, indeed. Who knew? (So many people I won’t bother to list them. 😂) If not for repeatedly reinjuring the same spots, I’d be pain-free right now. I haven’t purchased a bunch of storage containers (yet.) Using what I already have is proving sufficient, so far. Yay.
In the past, I’ve always completed this task in a single day (lasting into the wee hours of the morning.) This time, I’m using a tailored version of Marie Kondo’s method. It involves a lot of thanking inanimate objects for their service before donating or tossing them. I’m only keeping things that spark joy™. The process makes me happy enough to cancel out the anxiety over making a huge mess, then slowly unmaking it. Mostly. Music helps with what remains.
I’ve uncovered a lifetime supply of velcro cable ties. (I didn’t realize I took cable organization so seriously.) I’m collecting them in a laundry basket until I’m done setting up my home studio/playroom. Knowing me, I’ll spend at least a day making all my cables look pretty at some point. Even though I recognize I’ll forever be adding and swapping out equipment as my synthesizer obsession grows. (It’s a sickness.) 🤣
As I’ve stated before, I’m very literal. Whenever I rearrange my physical possessions, I spend the time also mentally processing and discarding false presumptions about the people in my world. I’ve always been like this. As a child, I substituted my space with Barbie accessories and the multilevel mansion my brother built me out of wood scraps. I would spend hours trying to wrap my head around the complexities of relationships and communication while lining up tiny plastic shoes and reupholstering cardboard furniture with glue and quilting scraps from my mom’s stash.
It’s funny how little we change in some ways as we age. My main focus is on tweaking the lighting and flow of furnishings. I’ve eliminated several things I used to bump into as I move about my space constantly. (I’ve accepted I’m likely never going to be very good at controlling my avatar.) The sofa is history. I’m a floor sitter. All it did was get in my way. M has a beloved recliner for gaming and watching TV. I have a floor cushion. The gaming computers are in the living room, now, and the chairs can be turned around to provide guest seating if necessary.
I’ve never owned a dining table. The kitchen island suffices for that. The dining room isn’t a room; More like an afterthought near the kitchen. I put my drum kit there, instead. I couldn’t stand having it in the small bedroom. It felt too closed-in. Now it’s perfect. Music is the heart of my home. Everything is centered around creating. I can already tell it’s working as I’ve thought of a new story and have half composed a song in my head.
I have two novels in progress at the moment. It surprises me, as I expected to only work on one at a time. The stories are unrelated, but my process seems to entail learning from one and using the new skills in the other. As I bounce between them, it’s occurred to me I’ll likely produce several incomplete books I’m not ready to finish yet. I have to dream them first, and much of dreams birth from experience and observation.
I’m delighted by how much joy I’ve found all around me. I used to roll my eyes at sentimentality, but it turns out I’m one of them. Heh. I have a pile of things I no longer want to own, but love. I’m going to photograph them and store the images in the cloud before purging them. It’ll be fun to browse through the photos years from now and remember all the stuff I’ve loved at various points in my life. (Good thing my new camera came with a photography tutorial.) 😂 I’m off to beat my drums with sticks. ✌🏽💜