As I waded through the vastly strewn contents of my basement, I muttered more than a few choice comments about my ex-husband’s purchasing habits regarding home improvement project materials.  We owned more “make your own screen” kits than windows in our house.  And just how many new door latches does one REALLY need?    I was feeling very smug – until I got to the home office/study area and found my Achilles heel:  office and school supplies.  At last count I have unearthed  11 unopened sets of divider tabs, probably 40 folders, and possibly 20 notebooks.  Let’s not even talk about the pens, pencils and paper of various stock, color and usage.  And there are still 3 unexplored boxes just waiting to expose my weakness. 

OK, so I’ve uncovered another hidden treasure of moving – the exposure to all your “stuff”.  Not only am I finding physical stuff I had long forgotten, but I am finding all sorts of goodies of the emotional nature.  One of these more interesting “finds” is my need to categorize. 

Any good organizer worth his or her salt will gleefully charge you with deciding what stays and what goes.  That is phase one.  Next, lump together those things which share some common component or usage.  This task I find actually very rewarding.  I can now actually find kitchen items easily, the kids can at a glance find the Xbox game vs the Playstation ones, and of course there are those office supplies.  The problem is what to do with the stuff that doesn’t fit neatly into a category or group.  For example: what do I do with the baby books:  are they to be shelved with the photos, or archived with the “we won’t need this for a long time” items?  They could go either way, needing a decision from me which frankly is seemingly either too difficult or too unimportant to me.  It also begs the question:  what do I do with the other things in my life which I can’t categorize? 

My career had been put pretty much on hold as I was consumed with this move.  As I can see the light at the end of the tunnel of boxes, I realize it is time for me to start making some decisions.  But how to categorize it?  How do you reinvent your reinvented self?  Which parts do you keep, which do you throw away, and what do you do with the stuff that doesn’t fit neatly in one compartment?  

I realized that the process is the same as the one I have been using for wading through my physical stuff:

Step one:  What do I really need? 

Step Two:  Be willing to let go of that which is not necessary or relevant any longer.

Step Three:  Take an inventory of that which is left and give it the “gut test”:  Imagine my life with it and feel the feeling I get from it.  Then imagine my life without it and notice the feeling.  The gut never lies…

Step Four:  Put aside that which doesn’t make sense right now.  Revisit it in a week, or a month.  It may have found its home by then, or at least a clearer answer. 

Step Five:  Step back and look at what you’ve got.  Make any minor adjustments.

Step Six:  Celebrate the new you!

I’m coming to realize that life is not about what compartment you fit in or even if you spill over into a couple along the way.  Life is a series of readjustments, responding to the continual changes inside and outside of you.  And really, as long as you know where the important stuff is, what else do you really need?  But if you need office supplies, give me a call…