Just read all the way to the end of the Harvard Business Reveiw article of yesterday:
The Disciplined Pursuit of Less
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
MOVING - the two types of people (us)
Getting ready to move to TX without a furniture mover, I've learned a lot about the two types of people. And mixed types.
For instance, when I'm moving and getting rid of stuff, I'm a pile-it. I need desperately to see where the stuff is that I'm shipping ahead, and where the stuff is I'll need to get on the plane and when I get off it. Out of sight, out of mind. This makes me a mixed type, because I do need lists for what to do today and what food to buy.
I'm having trouble being a pile-it in my current one room. I can't be tripping over boxes. And having trouble with piling anything since the surgeon said absolutely no lifting, moving, or packing. So. . .In fact, I can't walk to a place to buy a couple more boxes. My helper is not always on the same wave-length as I am. But a "pile" for Goodwill can just go in a bag on the bed, then I'll push the bag onto the floor.
Whether you're a pile-it or a lister, here's one main thing I've learned: don't panic. Or if you must panic, and some of us must panic, don't throw anything away for the first day or so of panic. Especially don't throw away and favorite sandals. I think I already got rid of my old boom box with my favorite CD still in it. And I've already needed to look things up in a book I keep giving away and then needing. Really needing.
Today I'm going to hang signs in the closet: SHIP and PACK. The problem is that I can't pull out a suitcase and see how much it will hold. My recent trip to the hospital taught me that a couple ugly summer robes and my underwear can fill up a suitcase amazingly fast. How do people do it when they go out of town to work?
I confess I still have brown envelopes to fill and stuff from the files to throw away. Aaargh.
Yes, fear of dumping some valuable paper or fear of no room in the suitcase can really paralyze me, just like the books all say.
Luckily I have a deadline, and I'll love it when my legal papers are pared down to the minimum and ready to mail. The most important "send" thing will be the discs for my laptop, which I will have to trust to Fed-Ex.
No use swearing that I"ll never do this again. No use promising I'll get rid of the bank statements. Does online banking have all those statements with your account number in 42 places on both sides? Worth finding out.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
The Dreaded M Word (moving)
First I'll confess that I hate the word downsizing. As I said once in a talk at the library, we need to think of where we're going.
Where I'm going is to Texas, with two suitcases, my laptop, and some receipts from UPS and that crowd.
I learned the hard way, a year ago, that the scorched earth method of moving to a smaller place is Dangerous. I gave up some things, like the working model dollhouse from architectural design class. Big mistake. The photo of it does not explain anything. Yes, I confess I've told people just to take a picture . . . but I should have written: are you sure it's wise to give up this thing?
My daughter is the wise one this time--she told me to keep the things I will really miss.
I've learned something valuable from living with my roommate this year. If he makes something he's enjoyed making, and he likes it, he puts it where he can see it.
Where I'm going is to Texas, with two suitcases, my laptop, and some receipts from UPS and that crowd.
I learned the hard way, a year ago, that the scorched earth method of moving to a smaller place is Dangerous. I gave up some things, like the working model dollhouse from architectural design class. Big mistake. The photo of it does not explain anything. Yes, I confess I've told people just to take a picture . . . but I should have written: are you sure it's wise to give up this thing?
My daughter is the wise one this time--she told me to keep the things I will really miss.
I've learned something valuable from living with my roommate this year. If he makes something he's enjoyed making, and he likes it, he puts it where he can see it.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
THE PAPER CLUTTER CONFESSION
Yes, I have done some organizing for storage clients. And apparently some of them like it, since I got repeat business.
Luckily, none of them asked me for help with their files. The written word, on line or on paper (including written numbers from the bank) is tough for me to organize. Especially in files. I love files! I put something in a file and it never falls on the floor. And I never have to look at it. Until I move.
I'm getting ready to move again, and I've had to face those endless bank statements from last year. I can't think of any reason why I need them now.
Last night while listening to some jabbering about the election, I started my usual ritual of tearing off account numbers. No, I don't have a crosscut shredder--it just won't fit in here.
Suddenly I remember my daughter last year gave me a gadget that is supposed to obliterate account numbers from paper. It uses ink-- since I never had good results from using markers or whatever. I never even tried it.
Last night I did (before and after reading the instructions.) The results were usually, but not always, perfect. Sometimes I could still read account numbers so I would put on lots more ink.
After doing a whole bagful of statements that way, I finally got the point! The gadget uses numbers and letters instead of pints of ink. Those numbers and letters confuse the eye so we can't figure out the account number.
For a year I had been sure that I knew better than the guy who invented the gadget. Hmmm...
Luckily, none of them asked me for help with their files. The written word, on line or on paper (including written numbers from the bank) is tough for me to organize. Especially in files. I love files! I put something in a file and it never falls on the floor. And I never have to look at it. Until I move.
I'm getting ready to move again, and I've had to face those endless bank statements from last year. I can't think of any reason why I need them now.
Last night while listening to some jabbering about the election, I started my usual ritual of tearing off account numbers. No, I don't have a crosscut shredder--it just won't fit in here.
Suddenly I remember my daughter last year gave me a gadget that is supposed to obliterate account numbers from paper. It uses ink-- since I never had good results from using markers or whatever. I never even tried it.
Last night I did (before and after reading the instructions.) The results were usually, but not always, perfect. Sometimes I could still read account numbers so I would put on lots more ink.
After doing a whole bagful of statements that way, I finally got the point! The gadget uses numbers and letters instead of pints of ink. Those numbers and letters confuse the eye so we can't figure out the account number.
For a year I had been sure that I knew better than the guy who invented the gadget. Hmmm...
Monday, November 5, 2012
OPENING CONFESSION
Several years ago I was starting my book on clutter. My friend Kristen said: We want to hear more of your story.
That seems only fair, right? So here goes. I'm getting ready to move. Again. A dear friend gave me a gift of a great room to live in for a year. The year is ending. I am moving to another state. Not enough mostly yard-sale furniture for a moving van. So me, suitcases, laptop, cane, and UPS.
When I moved out of my old apartment, my family helped me shred mountains of paper, altough I'd had a computer for years. Now I'm still throowing away paper. It's been embarassing. Research findings that never turned into writing. Writing that never got finished, some of which is already in the computer. Some of which went on two thumb drives when the desktop outfit finally died. Total, not go-to-the-tech died. And what to do with fistfuls of medical insurance reports and bank statements and ugh.
What's even more embarrassing is that I was regretting saying goodbye to my right-height "desk," and my two sorta good, lamps, the burl end table and some dishes. But the one thing I will need most in my new room, is my 'posture" chair and the ottoman. And I don't know how to get them to Texas.
Since I recently had spinal fusion, I can't roll my wonderful rolling file, or reach into the file drawers, or get things off the bottom shelf of the folding shelves. But I want to whine anyway about giving them up.
Then the internet intervened. There is a video called something about a changed coastline on the eastern US. Forever. I didn't even watch the whole thing. It's not too hard to guess what it's like to watch your entire home tip into the sea. No dryout, no rebuild. Nothing.
That put my lamp, and file drawers, and folding shelves into perspective right away. Especially since I once lived six houses from the other ocean, and I grew up on stories of what even Lake Michigan can destroy.
And I was also reminded of an article on the web maybe a year ago. The reported was in another country interviewing a woman whose humble dwelling had been filled with muddy water in a flash flood. Her family was dragging some soaked items up a hill to where they would try to camp. She told the reporter that she thanked God for letting the flood in the daytime, for had it been at night, they would all have drowned.
More later. . .
That seems only fair, right? So here goes. I'm getting ready to move. Again. A dear friend gave me a gift of a great room to live in for a year. The year is ending. I am moving to another state. Not enough mostly yard-sale furniture for a moving van. So me, suitcases, laptop, cane, and UPS.
When I moved out of my old apartment, my family helped me shred mountains of paper, altough I'd had a computer for years. Now I'm still throowing away paper. It's been embarassing. Research findings that never turned into writing. Writing that never got finished, some of which is already in the computer. Some of which went on two thumb drives when the desktop outfit finally died. Total, not go-to-the-tech died. And what to do with fistfuls of medical insurance reports and bank statements and ugh.
What's even more embarrassing is that I was regretting saying goodbye to my right-height "desk," and my two sorta good, lamps, the burl end table and some dishes. But the one thing I will need most in my new room, is my 'posture" chair and the ottoman. And I don't know how to get them to Texas.
Since I recently had spinal fusion, I can't roll my wonderful rolling file, or reach into the file drawers, or get things off the bottom shelf of the folding shelves. But I want to whine anyway about giving them up.
Then the internet intervened. There is a video called something about a changed coastline on the eastern US. Forever. I didn't even watch the whole thing. It's not too hard to guess what it's like to watch your entire home tip into the sea. No dryout, no rebuild. Nothing.
That put my lamp, and file drawers, and folding shelves into perspective right away. Especially since I once lived six houses from the other ocean, and I grew up on stories of what even Lake Michigan can destroy.
And I was also reminded of an article on the web maybe a year ago. The reported was in another country interviewing a woman whose humble dwelling had been filled with muddy water in a flash flood. Her family was dragging some soaked items up a hill to where they would try to camp. She told the reporter that she thanked God for letting the flood in the daytime, for had it been at night, they would all have drowned.
More later. . .
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)