The side of my bed represents the chaos in my life: Everything I may possibly need absolutely has to be right there, within easy access–a cup of tea, my crochet, bills, a giant bottle of Vicks, the books I’m reading, papers related to work, at least three versions of the Bible, yummy snacks, Mr. Kitty’s toys, etc. Actually, it’s not just the side of my bed. There’s similar chaos is the recesses of my mind, my unhealthy lifestyle, my relationships. It’s time to clean up and start fresh. I liken it to my struggle with Merlin Mann’s Inbox Zero.
It was about 2007 when my son went on and on about the freedom and order he had discovered in Inbox Zero. Looking at the 2149 emails in my inbox, I had to admit that Inbox Zero was definitely the solution. So I started, but failed. Then, I restarted and failed again. This happened over and over again for three years. New year’s eve though, overwhelmed at how easily time has been sucking the life out of me, I started Inbox Zero yet again. So far, so good. I think I’m going to succeed this time. And what a difference it has made! I now have time to do stuff I enjoy, the things that bring satisfaction and joy to me. Now that I’ve stayed at Inbox Zero long enough to appreciate it, I don’t ever want to fall of the wagon again.
Looking at my bedside mess this morning, I realized that the principles of Inbox Zero (Mann refers to them as Articles of Faith)* can be applied to the clutter in other parts of my life. My son calls it my attempt at Lifebox Zero.
I begin today.
Says Fyl 