Hidden memories
A couple of days shredding unwanted papers, a handful of mobile devices reset to factory settings and a trip to the tip – what more could a girl want? I’ve not hidden my enjoyment of decluttering, so it’s hardly surprising that I’m starting this week feeling somehow lighter and brighter. It all began with my piece about turning the page on a new year and my annual, post festive rummage through the larder, especially the jumbled shelves of herbs, spices and aromatics. It’s become a sort of tradition, like taking the tree for recycling.
It seems that as the year progresses, some of those wonderful little pots and jars of fragrant spices and herbs play hide and seek with each other. By mid-December I had two jars of lemon grass, a random half nutmeg and no malt vinegar. Then lurking behind endless flavoured vinegars, I discovered my stash of cute little tins of unpronounceable and unopened goodies recommended on Saturday Kitchen Live (most likely). I don’t get too concerned by “best before” dates although flavour does deteriorate and raising agents lose their purpose as they get older. It wasn’t long before I’d assembled a little pile of stray peppercorns and a rather dull looking star anise to go with my half nutmeg – how do they escape?
The larder cupboard now looks pristine and this year I’ve even made a list of which ingredients are available and those running out, although I can’t promise to keep it up. I’m so organised when it comes to my work, yet I don’t always employ the same stock management techniques at home. Next stop, the shredding. Despite my regular decluttering sessions, the study and the garage filing cabinets were full to overflowing with stuff. A personal archive, these drawers had escaped earlier culls. It seems that I’d kept everything rather than what I needed or even wanted. Baking notes I’d forgotten, photographs (yes, I predated digital) and typewritten (ditto) college assignments all vying for my attention. There was space, so I filled it.
All too often our inspiration and expectations get lost amid cluttered thoughts (like my hidden stash of spices and outdated photographs). Sometimes there’s so much going on we forget to discriminate between what’s essential, what’s nice to have and what will make us feel like superstars. Whatever our profession or career ambitions, we simply keep going (without a plan) because it’s expected or anticipated. Then, without much warning, our progress stalls, we become impatient and it’s time for a new role. But how did we get tangled up in these weeds anyway? And why didn’t we know when to hit the pause button?
I’m not judging you. Believe me, I almost ordered a third filing cabinet to satisfy my unusual collecting habit – almost 18 years of pay slips, a lifetime of P60s and a reference library of pension booklets. All carefully labelled, yet completely superfluous. And I’m not suggesting that your life is a filing cabinet either, although I’m urging you to recognise what’s important to you and what’s not. To create opportunities for yourself at work, improve your technique or better understand what matters to you, try asking yourself a couple of questions:
· Is this essential to my role(s) and my wellbeing?
· Will it make me feel like the superstar I am?
When your thoughts are more focused, consider what adds most value and what really doesn’t help at all. This technique works well in so many different settings. It’s a great way to sort out the basics of what you need or value from the unnecessary or “nice to haves” and so on. It even helps to define your “even better ifs” – life’s little luxuries.
I’ve mentioned before that I seldom switch off completely. Slowing down works for me every time, especially when it involves a comfy chair and a steaming hot cuppa. The rain at the weekend inspired me to shred although it quickly became an opportunity to reflect on my life and career – Through the Filing Cabinet (no Looking Glass for me). In the spirit of learning as you go, shredded paper and the tip aren’t a great combination in the rain, especially when you need to post the shredded paper through a large letterbox. I’ll leave you to imagine the scene.
Why not get in touch if you’d like to chat about baking or shredding, or simply want to begin the conversation. Let’s talk.
