Things that fall: the Romans to the Visigoths, windy winter leaves, snow in the northeast, babies learning to walk, and Dina Moon anytime she’s allowed on a ladder. It’s ok. I have come to terms with certain facts. Namely, I am only young and spry in my mind. My body did not get that memo. Secondly, I somehow remain a possibilitarian. I say things to myself like, “What if it works out better than expected? What if I’m a raging success?” The craziest things in the world started out as wild ideas few believed would actually work. Ask Orville and Wilbur Wright. Ask Guglielmo Marconi. The Earl of Sandwich could not have anticipated the unveiling of the Monte Cristo, and Alexander Graham Bell has rolled over in his grave over the iPhone enough times to auger his way to Shanghai. Great things happen when we ignore the little voice that says, “You can’t do that. You’re incapable. It won’t work.” ‘Tis true. Still, I am not poised on the precipice of an invention that could change the face of an industry. I’m just a short woman trying to clean out her kitchen cabinets.
I blame two distinct entities for my current predicament: Marie Condo and my church. In the land of Marie Condo, organization is simple, if not messy. Like Poltergeist’s Carol Anne, mesmerized by a bewitching television screen, everything must come into the light. You identify a space that needs to be organized, for any reason. Are you constantly wearing one of the 49 black sweaters you hate because you can’t find the 1 black sweater you love? Has your catch all basket spawned a litter of miniature catch all baskets? Is your last bag of popcorn hiding in between a petrified hot dog bun and an expired can of cream of corn? Do you still own mercurochrome that says “Eckerd’s” on the bottle? You, my friend, need to get organized. Marie Condo took the country by storm a few years ago. She wrote a book and dominated social media with her simple concept. Get EVERYTHING in one area so you can see it all. Revel in the horror. Pick up each single item and ask yourself, “Does this spark joy in my heart?” If the answer is no, it must go. Trash it, gift it, or donate it, stat. That’s the basics, though Marie spends as much time teaching people how to origami a pair of workout pants into a 2” pocket square as she does organizing. I have benefitted tremendously from her teachings, not because I adhere to the steps, but because her followers have turned area resale shops into a thrifter’s paradise. Still, Marie knows her stuff. But, what does this have to do with church, I bet you’re asking. You were asking, right?
It’s a new year. We’re all making resolutions or breaking resolutions or just wanting to be better. We all crave more, whatever our individual definitions of more may be. My church announced a period of fasting and prayer for most of January. The term fasting was offered in a variety of manifestations. An all-out water fast was definitely a viable option, but since I put my body through the intensity of 75 Hard recently, I opted to fast in a different manner, namely eliminating social media for the month. Honestly, I thought it would be more difficult. Sure, I’ve missed my Aunt Karen’s inspirational Facebook posts. No images of cabins in the woods with fireplaces and soft rain falling. There have been multiple times I realized I was out of a product and couldn’t look at an influencer’s Instagram page to help me remember a brand name. But mainly, it has felt freeing and humbling. I hadn’t realized what a crutch the approval of others had become for me or what a boastful being I had morphed into. Look at my life. Look at my stuff. It’s all mine all mine all mine. There is beauty in giving God the stage so He can remind us that He is the giver. We are only the stewards of His gifts: homes, careers, cars, and even precious children. These are temporal things we are granted access to for a time, but never guaranteed. We guard and nourish and caretake for the time we are gifted. Then, we let these things go.
This week, during the praying and the fasting, I realized how much stinking time I had on my hands! With no way to check Facebook for news on local car chases or planes landing on highways, and no Instagram to compare my home to anyone else’s, I am positively swimming in extra time! Hence, the perfect opportunity to focus that magnifying glass on my coffee station, of course. Why so many coffee cups? Why do all those insulated ones keep vaulting toward my head every time I open the cabinet? Where are the coffee filters, anyway? That is how, on a random Tuesday, I wound up on a utility ladder poised to purge my kitchen cabinets. Turns out, 50% of my coffee cups did not spark joy. The honey entered witness protection and moved into a secret location nearer to the pantry. I have enough filters to either enter 2030 with style or make a million wreaths. As in life, it’s the arrogant descent that causes us issues. I missed the second step. My left foot became entangled with the space between the side bar and the third step. I hit the floor hard enough to make my watch threaten to call an ambulance but not hard enough to injure anything besides my pride. I will continue to enjoy my time away from social media. But, time on a ladder, that’s a fast I’m penciling in for next year.
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