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…

There were certain courses in high school that I never thought would have any practical applicability in my life.  Trigonometry was one of them.  Try as hard as he might, Mr. Steinbeck could NOT convince me that not only was Trig a worthwhile use of my time, but HONORS Trig was nothing short of a privilege afforded to only a chosen few.  I am still a little smug thinking about how I, for one of the first times in my life, stuck to my position and wasn’t wooed by the pretense of fame and fortune being dangled in the form of a math teacher’s dream.  

Physics was another one.  I just never thought I’d need to know the how and why about the way things work.  “They happen” worked for me.  Obviously I had never been faced with moving my household yet. 

A few years ago, when I was full of life and optimism and energy, I was finishing up my Masters, finalizing a divorce, and starting a new business.  I mentioned to a colleague that I was thinking of maybe selling my house too.  In a very calm voice – probably to hide the terror wanting to scream out to me – she proclaimed, “Moving takes a lot of energy”.  I believe this was my first Physics lesson that really made sense.

I am winding up a three week non-stop moving extravaganza this week when I turn over the keys to my big 7 bedroom home and can solely focus on finding room for the overwhelming amount of STUFF in my new 3 bedroom cape.  “Moving takes a lot of energy” is, I have found, an understatement!  On all levels- physical, emotional, mental – it is draining.  It’s also a good way to lose weight, although I won’t be trying it again anytime soon!! 

 In all of the angst and exhaustion, I have also had time to learn a bit more about Physics and other subjects I never thought would be applicable to my life.  Things about volume and leverage and how moving company employees are masters at both.  I’ve learned about angles and mass and the proper way to tilt mattresses to wind them around charming and impractical staircases.  How to apply enough force and use the banister as a lever when trying to lift the box spring up and into the house via a second floor patio door.  The force that is applied when one’s moving partner doesn’t know your hands have slipped off the dresser and its entire weight lands on your leg. 

But the greatest lesson I have learned is this:  Matter expands to fit the space.  Somehow over 16 years we managed to completely fill a very large house with a lot of not-so-much-needed stuff, a fact I believe my mother is now secretly saying “I told you so” to.  If you have the space, it will be filled.  It seems Zen qualities were not prevalent in my life until too late.  

 There is one area in which this principle took on a very special and profound meaning.  I learned that I if I created a space for people to help me, they did.  They filled up the void I created with humor and warmth and generosity of spirit.  It was a matter of my learning to open up and allow the rest to flow.  And Mary, Fran, Deborah, and Regina all came rushing in to give selflessly – a lesson that has had more of an impact on me that any honors class ever did.  I am amazed and truly grateful!!

Perhaps by the time I write next month’s essay I’ll even have a better idea where my pencil sharpener may be or where that special place was that I put my extra credit cards so I wouldn’t lose them.  I do know now that if I continue to apply those physics principles and create the space for more love and goodness to flow on in, it will.  I’m grateful to be able to learn my Physics lessons now, even if I couldn’t see their purpose back in high school. 

Honors Trig?  Still not seeing it….