I have never been accused of being an orderly person. I am the absolute antithesis of organization. For as long as I can remember, my bedroom, my workspace, my desk, my locker…they’ve all been a hot mess of books, random papers, pens and pencils, hair ties, stuffed animals, and whatever else just happened to get thrown in the mix. Well, except food. I was never the one to leave food or drink lying around till it became a science experiment. I have a deep-rooted fear of mold and a strong dislike for ants, so at least I have that going for me.
For years I agonized over this state of affairs. My parents were neat and organized. My brothers were neat and organized. My husband and older son are neat and organized. But me? Nope. I tried. I can clean things up, but I guarantee they’ll be messy again within a day.
I guess it just goes with being creative. At any given moment, there is so much going on inside my head–stories I want to write, scarves or sweaters I want to crochet, scenes I’d like to draw or photograph–that I can’t focus on what’s lying on the floor around me. I’ve always said, if you think my house is a mess, you should see the inside of my mind.
For the most part, I’ve learned to live with chaos. In fact, when things get too quiet inside my head and I begin focusing on cleaning up the house, you can bet it’s because my creativity is all dried up. I’ve hit writer’s block, I don’t feel like crocheting, and my pencils and sketch pad go untouched.
And at those times, you may find that my house is in order, but I’m not a fun person to be around. I may be distracted. I may be angry. I may be depressed or withdrawn. In short, something of me just isn’t there.
So if you’re my friend, you learn to go with the flow and embrace me in all my chaotic, creative glory. So when you come visit me, don’t mind the mess. Just move the notebooks out of the way and be careful you don’t sit on a pencil or crochet hook. I’ll make us some tea, just as soon as I find the teabags…