Organization for us visual folk is quite a challenge. I really like to see every option available to me.
I was kind of ashamed of that until I finally realized that I am this way because God created me this way. (You got a problem with that? Take it up with Him! =D)
What "way" am I??
- I like color. Lots of color.
- I need to have every project I’m working on close by.
- I don’t mind working on things on top of other things. I know it looks chaotic, but I know where to find stuff.
- I have to have to have research at my fingertips.
- I have to sketch.
- I need lots of input. Lots of it. A.D.D. caliber input. Music going, all my tools surrounding me.
That’s how I create. (not a complicated list, is it?)
Can you guess that it makes the rest of the people I share space with a little uncomfortable?
Well, I’m not completely insensitive. I listened. And I found an ally in the most unlikely person: my dentist. (go figure)
Yes. My dentist (who complains that I never open my mouth wide enough*, but that’s not important right now). See, while I was waiting in the reception area, I noticed their magazines (all the most current!) are displayed like this. Titles showing in simple columns. And I commented to Janet, the lovely receptionist. "It’s always so wonderful coming in here. You have the latest magazines and they’re always so neat."
"The secret," she told me (even though I was stunned to find out there is an actual "secret" and that kind of distracted me for a while, but that’s not important right now), "is to place the current ones on the table with all the titles visible. Take last month’s and give them away or throw them away."
Wait. It’s possible I blacked out there for a moment overwhelmed by the radical aspect of the whole ‘secret’ task thing. And did she actually suggest I throw them away?? (don’t judge me.) 😉
"Yes," she explained,"if you haven’t taken the time to read them in a month, you most likely won’t."
I fixated on this sentence as if it were a lifeline I was clutching onto for my very survival.
"I most likely won’t."
Hmm. . . maybe she’s right. I tried it. First I carefully placed the newest arrivals on the coffee table.
Then I looked at the giant pile of months gone by and I decided to believe her… "I most likely won’t. I most likely won’t." I repeated it to myself until I began to believe it. I started tossing and tossing and laughing hysterically.
Woo-hoo! Look at me go. "I need some help, kids." Soon we become The Tossing Darbys. (we should be in the circus!)
And now… look! The photo up there is how my coffee table looks like all the time now. The old magazines? Gave them to Goodwill. I don’t think I even miss them (much).
Now I feel self-esteem. I think I’m a little taller, even. My smile is certainly brighter. I’m laughing at how simple it all was.
(Note: *It’s not usually a problem at any other time.)