Simply Me: clutter

Showing posts with label clutter. Show all posts

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Pickled Octopus & Bowls of Rocks

Stuff everywhere. Stuff on the couch, tables, counters, closets, drawers, cars. Boxes & bags. Clothes, books, VHS tapes without covers. Clutter. Papers. Food. Why is there so much food. We don't eat it. We eat the same meals over and over. So why do I have cans and jars and boxes? When I asked my Husband, the great hunter-gatherer why we have a can of organic stuffed grape leaves and a tin of pickled octopus, he looks wounded & declares, " They were on clearance." I should be able to go to the grocery store and buy the same darn things I bought last week. Seven meals, over & over. Same ingredients. I should be able to fill my basket with my eyes closed and know exactly where it all goes when I get home. So why is it still in bags three days later? I don't know. My Amazing Tallulah reminded me last night how much easier & healthier life is if you keep it simple. My daughter is brilliant. She gets it from my side. Simple food choices. I was going to spend an hour of my life mixing & assembling a homemade lasagna, dreading it. Then it occurred to me...I could make Beefaroni instead, same ingredients, different shapes, a quarter of the time. Bingo! Today I have filled trash bags & boxes for Goodwill. Pots, pans, dishes, glasses, pictures I never hung. I have little tables, desks & boxes of books stacked up by the front door, ready to be hauled away tomorrow. I have a library card and a Netflix membership...why do I have to own every book and every movie. Tomorrow morning, any VHS tape not in a cover is going in a trash bag. No mercy. I want empty counters, bare walls & clear floors. I want open space. I hate stuff. I don't want any "decor". Today I threw away a bowl of rocks. What the hell? A silver bowl filled with pinecones. Seashells. A box of shark's teeth! Why do I even have these things in my house to begin with? The words "collection" and "memorabilia" send shivers down my spine. Okay, back to work. Will write more about clutter later. I hear the boys frantically hiding things in their room. Futility.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Torture, Temptations & Treasures

My last purchase at a retail store that Sunday over a week ago was meant to be a symbol of the simple pleasures I hoped to incorporate back into my life. I bought one of those beautiful wooden boar bristle hairbrushes. The kind women used to brush through their long hair 100 times every night. I thought this would be a beautiful tangible way to start on my new path. So that evening, while Gaston my husband watched a Western movie, I sat in my chair while to the sounds of horses, gunshots, trains and coyotes, I used my new stiff bristled brush to brush through my not so long hair. As usual, I figured MORE was better. If one hundred times had been the trend, then brushing it through the entire movie would probably be miraculous. So I did. The entire movie... My first waking thought the next morning was 'the children have been killed in their beds or burned at the stake because I, obviously, have been scalped'. This was my first reminder that more was not better, not even simple pleasures and that living simply was not going to be painless.
The next night my nineteen yr, old son, Clyde Pierre brought me a shopping bag from Kohl's, to show me the great deals he had gotten. He had a Peanuts shirt he had gotten for $1.50. I began to plan my dash to Kohl's upon rising the next morning, bright and early, because I really NEEDED A Peanut's shirt too and my gosh, can you imagine if that is such a good deal what other things they must....OH. Right. I'm not shopping. Well, I wondered, I could give Clyde the money and have him go get it for his beloved mother, that wouldn't be cheating now, would it. The gods of Simplicity frowned. So I do not have a new Peanuts shirt from Kohl's. Instead I cleaned out all the drawers full of clothes I already had and gave most of it away. Now when I open my dresser, it not only opens, but there is SPACE between my clothes. That space is more beautiful to me than a new graphic tee. Even Snoopy.
When I left the final store that Sunday, I put my new plan into action and went to Goodwill to look for the glasses I had gone out searching for, with the decision to be content with whatever was provided. Well, this new attitude seemed to have opened a floodgate of blessing, because I found so much treasure! I found a brand new, never used, sticker-still-on set of steins, the kind you freeze to make your drink cold, each a different color. Perfect. My son was thrilled, he loves them. They were 70 cents each so the world didn't end when my husband immediately dropped one and broke the handle off. When he felt bad, it was easy to say, "no biggie, it's from Goodwill"! I got two black Corelle coffee cups to go with my white ones for 39 cents, an almost new commercial grade Nordicware wok approximately $40 new for only $8, it will last a lifetime & has been very helpful all week in my attempts to eat simpler foods. Also two ice trays for 29 cents, a set of very orange, very 70's measuring cups, 29 cents and my favorite find, a pair of thick flannel pajamas from Vermont Country Store, hardly worn, in my size, blue flower print for $3! They sell for $40 new and my little boys think they are beautiful. I also found a pair of Land's End mocs in my size, very good condition in a most unfortunate shade of pink, that I have been wearing with pleasure for only $4 which sell for $30 new.Have bought many brand new items and stored away as gifts and of course many good books that have made the week very enjoyable. This was fun!
There have been many moments of restlessness or boredom that my first thought was to jump in car, run down to Walmart, just to look around. So am having to learn to redirect my mind as I change my habits. It has been a very good time of change, gears grinding down, speed slowing, learning to be still. More about being still, clutter, hair, food and gifts later. I hope your week is full of many simple pleasures. Remember, when you get to 100, STOP BRUSHING.

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Caring For Your Introvert

Caring for Your Introvert

The Atlantic Monthly | March 2003

DO YOU KNOW someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?

If so, do you tell this person he is "too serious," or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?

If you answered yes to these questions, chances are that you have an introvert on your hands—and that you aren't caring for him properly. Science has learned a good deal in recent years about the habits and requirements of introverts. It has even learned, by means of brain scans, that introverts process information differently from other people (I am not making this up). If you are behind the curve on this important matter, be reassured that you are not alone. Introverts may be common, but they are also among the most misunderstood and aggrieved groups in America, possibly the world.

I know. My name is Jonathan, and I am an introvert.

Oh, for years I denied it. After all, I have good social skills. I am not morose or misanthropic. Usually. I am far from shy. I love long conversations that explore intimate thoughts or passionate interests. But at last I have self-identified and come out to my friends and colleagues. In doing so, I have found myself liberated from any number of damaging misconceptions and stereotypes. Now I am here to tell you what you need to know in order to respond sensitively and supportively to your own introverted family members, friends, and colleagues. Remember, someone you know, respect, and interact with every day is an introvert, and you are probably driving this person nuts. It pays to learn the warning signs.

What is introversion? In its modern sense, the concept goes back to the 1920s and the psychologist Carl Jung. Today it is a mainstay of personality tests, including the widely used Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. Introverts are not necessarily shy. Shy people are anxious or frightened or self-excoriating in social settings; introverts generally are not. Introverts are also not misanthropic, though some of us do go along with Sartre as far as to say "Hell is other people at breakfast." Rather, introverts are people who find other people tiring.

Extroverts are energized by people, and wilt or fade when alone. They often seem bored by themselves, in both senses of the expression. Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially "on," we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn't antisocial. It isn't a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: "I'm okay, you're okay—in small doses."

How many people are introverts? I performed exhaustive research on this question, in the form of a quick Google search. The answer: About 25 percent. Or: Just under half. Or—my favorite—"a minority in the regular population but a majority in the gifted population."

Are introverts misunderstood? Wildly. That, it appears, is our lot in life. "It is very difficult for an extrovert to understand an introvert," write the education experts Jill D. Burruss and Lisa Kaenzig. (They are also the source of the quotation in the previous paragraph.) Extroverts are easy for introverts to understand, because extroverts spend so much of their time working out who they are in voluble, and frequently inescapable, interaction with other people. They are as inscrutable as puppy dogs. But the street does not run both ways. Extroverts have little or no grasp of introversion. They assume that company, especially their own, is always welcome. They cannot imagine why someone would need to be alone; indeed, they often take umbrage at the suggestion. As often as I have tried to explain the matter to extroverts, I have never sensed that any of them really understood. They listen for a moment and then go back to barking and yipping.

Are introverts oppressed? I would have to say so. For one thing, extroverts are overrepresented in politics, a profession in which only the garrulous are really comfortable. Look at George W. Bush. Look at Bill Clinton. They seem to come fully to life only around other people. To think of the few introverts who did rise to the top in politics—Calvin Coolidge, Richard Nixon—is merely to drive home the point. With the possible exception of Ronald Reagan, whose fabled aloofness and privateness were probably signs of a deep introverted streak (many actors, I've read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors), introverts are not considered "naturals" in politics.

Extroverts therefore dominate public life. This is a pity. If we introverts ran the world, it would no doubt be a calmer, saner, more peaceful sort of place. As Coolidge is supposed to have said, "Don't you know that four fifths of all our troubles in this life would disappear if we would just sit down and keep still?" (He is also supposed to have said, "If you don't say anything, you won't be called on to repeat it." The only thing a true introvert dislikes more than talking about himself is repeating himself.)

With their endless appetite for talk and attention, extroverts also dominate social life, so they tend to set expectations. In our extrovertist society, being outgoing is considered normal and therefore desirable, a mark of happiness, confidence, leadership. Extroverts are seen as bighearted, vibrant, warm, empathic. "People person" is a compliment. Introverts are described with words like "guarded," "loner," "reserved," "taciturn," "self-contained," "private"—narrow, ungenerous words, words that suggest emotional parsimony and smallness of personality. Female introverts, I suspect, must suffer especially. In certain circles, particularly in the Midwest, a man can still sometimes get away with being what they used to call a strong and silent type; introverted women, lacking that alternative, are even more likely than men to be perceived as timid, withdrawn, haughty.

Are introverts arrogant? Hardly. I suppose this common misconception has to do with our being more intelligent, more reflective, more independent, more level-headed, more refined, and more sensitive than extroverts. Also, it is probably due to our lack of small talk, a lack that extroverts often mistake for disdain. We tend to think before talking, whereas extroverts tend to think by talking, which is why their meetings never last less than six hours. "Introverts," writes a perceptive fellow named Thomas P. Crouser, in an online review of a recent book called Why Should Extroverts Make All the Money? (I'm not making that up, either), "are driven to distraction by the semi-internal dialogue extroverts tend to conduct. Introverts don't outwardly complain, instead roll their eyes and silently curse the darkness." Just so.

The worst of it is that extroverts have no idea of the torment they put us through. Sometimes, as we gasp for air amid the fog of their 98-percent-content-free talk, we wonder if extroverts even bother to listen to themselves. Still, we endure stoically, because the etiquette books—written, no doubt, by extroverts—regard declining to banter as rude and gaps in conversation as awkward. We can only dream that someday, when our condition is more widely understood, when perhaps an Introverts' Rights movement has blossomed and borne fruit, it will not be impolite to say "I'm an introvert. You are a wonderful person and I like you. But now please shush."

How can I let the introvert in my life know that I support him and respect his choice? First, recognize that it's not a choice. It's not a lifestyle. It's an orientation.

Second, when you see an introvert lost in thought, don't say "What's the matter?" or "Are you all right?"

Third, don't say anything else, either.

Simply Me