Damage Inc.

Inventory Rhymes with Gory


I was taught the inventory process first by my mother.  We would file, organize, color-code and sort the things of life with the nimbleness that, on her, always looked like intense professionalism.  Still does.  On me, it ended up taking a spin down OCD Road heading to the land of Found Buried in a Pile of Stuff, but that will, over time as you read the additions to this blog, become obvious.  She taught me the basics of how to create a home filing system, how to organize a drawer, and we even went so far as to sort my dolls' clothes by season and fold them into neat piles.  When I played teacher, my students' desks (shoeboxes) were lined up into neat rows, and I preferred symmetry (my coloring books were lined up by size and genre) in my decor.

The inventory process expanded when I learned new skills and obtained new neural tracks.  I gathered experiences, people, places, things... in my mind, I put them where they fit.  If they didn't fit anywhere, I was baffled.  I never understood what to do with people.  I never really felt comfy in any of the places I was, went to.  But things... ah things.  THINGS could be sorted and piled.  Things could be keys to memories that no one could see but me.  Things were what they were, regardless of how badly you had treated them the night before, unless you broke them.

My point?  If people confound you, and places don't fix you, things are where your frenzied spinning self comes to rest.  I live in a country where there are a lot of things, a lot of places to buy more things, sell things, trade things.  Objects are detachable, sortable, file-able.  If you are not careful, they accumulate with astounding speed.  There are entire sections in bookstores on how to organize and make the best of your stuff.  There are books on the worth of collectibles, how to make (something) out of a used (something), or who to donate that (something) to so they can use it, and you will then have more room for more (somethings).

The beginning of my inventory process started when I realized that the stuff of life was a nice, sturdy wall, a pretty but alarmingly sharp-edged container that I had formed around me and my children.  If we had toys, if we read the right books, if we had the right cooking supplies, if we made sure not to waste items that could be used again, we could somehow circumvent the obvious and live in entertained bliss amongst our objects d'art.  I also realized a side effect of compulsive spending and emotional shopping (two hobbies I, er, enjoyed in my 20's and am paying for in my 30's) was staring around at lots of random crap.  The side effect of the randomness was a busy buzzing in ones head that distracted from the problems of the day.  For example, if I never, ever got my closet overflow under control, I wouldn't notice that I didn't fit into half of my clothes, and I wouldn't take the time to examine why.  If we had lots of books and movies and games, lots of electronic devices, lots of noise around us, we wouldn't have time to notice that we were still healing from wounds that were oozing, untended, with slapped-on sloppy bandages made in haste while watching the next season of some show, bought of course online, on sale.

(More tomorrow as I teach you how to build walls with stuff.  It's a DIY Defense Mechanism Starter Course.)

Damage Inc.

A explanation of my own need for not only organization but the mental focus necessary for motivated living, for any measure of success, is what I bring to you today.  As does a business, a person can utilize the inventory process.  This can apply to other ways of improving oneself, and the concept is ABSOLUTELY not something I thought of on my own, but rather heard about and learned about from quite a few different sources.  My hope in the following week or so's posts is not to wax on about my own story, but to shed light on the process.

It means little to nothing for me to say that I went from completely unsure about my path to totally sure.  It means even less to say that I got rid of over 50% of my stuff in less than a year (true - my son thinks the percentage is even higher), took a close look at the financial burdens I created for myself and picked them apart with plans to deal with each (true), and came up with a plan that my children and I could start using to make our lives calmer and more productive, as well as intensely happier (also true).  What IS meaningful is the truth that is in the process.  The outcome is not the point.  The process... I will always love to look back at this time of my life because of what the process has done for me, what learning each step has done to my head and my heart.

Tomorrow:  Part 1 - Inventory Rhymes with Gory

A long talk with a wise friend funneled my thoughts today.  I have been collecting tools to post here - items that have helped me, organizationally, through the years.  I have been making lists, checking them more than twice, rewriting, rereading, corralling, pondering... everything but actually, well, blogging.  Fascinated by this process, I brought the issue to the attention of said wise friend, and we laughed about the wonders of procrastination.

She reminded me that there is a piece that is missing from a lot of motivational materials.  A piece that, if missing, cannot be seen until a lot of other pieces have been put into place.  An example at this point is needed if I am to hold your attention much longer.

I have books about organization.  I have collected articles about the topic, even written a few. I have given speeches on time and project management.  I have books about motivation.  I listen to speaker tapes, watch videos, and attend workshops.  So Piece #1 is in place:  I am informed.

I have all the time in the world at the moment, as I am attempting to carve a freelance career out of thin air.  I have a ridiculous clean and organized home (after getting rid of 70% of my stuff, but that is another entry, probably titled "Former Hoarder with OCD Repents").  My children are in school and my time commitments during the week are minimal compared to times in the past... Piece #2:  I have time on my side, for the moment.

Piece #3:  Loving family, friends, boyfriend, awesome neighbors - support.  Check.

Piece #4:  Inner life is at rest, personal relationship with the God of my Midunderstanding is a work in progress but is in place.  Check.

I would go on, but you get the idea.  My circumstances are utopian compared to times in the past, so what piece is missing?  What is keeping me from meeting my personal goals, i.e. taking the actions, small baby-step actions toward my goal(s)?

Me.  I am standing in my own way, getting in my own way... I can learn all there is to know on motivation, but none of that knowledge will crawl into my head and change my habits.  I can have all the love and support in the world, but no one is going to tackle me and hold my goals list in front of my face, screaming that they will no longer speak to me if I don't meet my goals.  And I know my God loves me, even if I don't meet my own goals.  The piece that is missing is self-discipline + conflicting character defects + general stubbornness = great big mess.  But it is My Mess.

Next on Motivatica:  My Mess gets inventoried and analyzed by me in simple steps you can try at home in your spare time, as always, free of charge.