Unclutter

The Ginkgo Biloba Bonsai loses every leaf to become a stick. 
It unclutters in order for new foliage to emerge.

Summer encourages my need to unclutter in a ritual I call - throw don't stow. A tug toward a turtle's simplicity pulls during observation of my office. Ah, to have a paperless space.

How to push past clutter to keep life's essentials?

I envision a wide-mouthed vacuum to suck until my surfaces shine in emptiness.

After the purge, I'd add to my desk: one tall vase with a daisy and my Wizard.

As my desk charmer, he sits with hands in the air, eyes closed. His white beard reveals a sneaky smile.

Light bounces from a crystal ball beneath his belt that rests on the robe.








Of course, I'd have to keep my fountain pen stable.

Over the years I have perfected a clearing ritual to deal with clutter. I call it the Two Box Trick. If I have an article to re-read, letters or items that might call to me later, I make notes on my calendar or in my Journal. The items go into a red box hidden in a corner of my office. Brochures from exhibits, play programs or flyers go into a green box. Receiving and paying bills online has assisted to avoid paper in that category.

In three months, if these objects haven't sneaked out or begged for safekeeping, the two boxes deliver contents to the black trash container outside. When this brutal ritual began, I peeked into the boxes before release. An hour later they dispersed themselves around the room. Now with confidence I can: release - relent - let go! 

These techniques apply also to writing. I've often searched in vain for the beginnings of a poem or essay. In frustration, I have rewritten. What a difference the distance made. When later I discovered the original brainings about the piece of writing, my ability to make it better resulted from its loss. Now I lose a poem or two on purpose.

UNCLUTTER 

Part 1: Take fifteen minutes today and open three drawers in your writing space. Take out the contents and put them in a box. Go without them for two months. If you can do it - don't peek - throw them!

Part 2: Lose two pieces of writing today. Hide them a month. Then - Approach them from scratch. You'll discover a brilliance.