This information has come to me before. I repeatedly forget it. It is similar to "...a long journey begins with a single step." Boiled down, it tells me that all I need to do in the process of restoring order is one thing at a time. One. Thing. Not conquering NOW the vast, chaotic disarray in the midst of which I shuffle along, not all in a day or a week or a month.
Today I opened half of the double accordion door to one closet. My knees didn't allow me to do this work standing up, so I sat on a folding chair and did a lot of reaching. Please believe me, I have pockets of out-of-sight, out-of-mind. The benefit of this is the surprise of finding goods of which I had almost no memory until I saw them again. As a drawback, I have unknowingly and on occasion replaced items that were not missing. In my defense, I am not prone to blackouts or amnesia. I endeavor to be frugal and wise and unconfused. But life comes and elbows the non-essential matters aside.
I retrieved the pillow that sent me, filled with hope, to the closet in the first place. The surprises included summer-weight shirts, many of them linen, others all cotton, contrasting companions for bright tees or tank tops; photos of my son when he was two or younger, some including loved ones no longer with us; origami papers and handmade paste papers; a notebook which contained the list of names we were weighing for our unborn child and a page of illustrations related to the first time the Pasadena Playhouse closed. It was done, based on its proximity to the names, in 1979. I thought I started drawing in 1994.
My son rolled his eyes at most of the choices we managed to avoid, saying they sounded like the names of serial killers. About the Playhouse drawings, he expressed wonder that ink was available back then.
Revised biography, enlarged portfolio, an unanticipated step forward. Tomorrow may be a rummage through never-worn shoes (don't ask) to see what else can upgrade my summer couture, the sorting of color pencils and shelving recently read books. I anticipate a better sleep with my plumper pillow. Perhaps it will signal increased energy, more sifting, fewer naps. Then, finding a spot for a gift typewriter due to be dropped off at the end of the day. The moment is racing toward us in which we will have to divest ourselves of something before anything new can move in. One of my things to do is develop a more rational attitude toward that edict.