Personal Ramblings

not frazzled by my bobby pins

You don’t have to know me. You just have to see me—-just once—-to understand my eternal need for a steady supply of bobby pins.

And so, very early in our marriage, my very thoughtful husband bought me this gorgeous antique, cobalt blue jar to hold my bobby pins. This jar has traveled around the world with me and always sits to the left of my bathroom sink.

Image

Every morning of every day, all these years, I search through my jar of bobby pins. I spend at least 20 seconds every day searching for one that has not lost its tip, its color or its grip. This means I’ve spent about 40 hours of life sorting through a cobalt jar for bobby pins.

What a colossal waste of time, right? Especially, when it didn’t have to be like this. If only I had taken the time to throw the bad ones in the trash. It’s simply the logical thing to do. But, no, I’ve wasted 40 hours of my life–just because I didn’t clean out my jar, because I wasn’t frazzled enough by stuff that didn’t belong.

Life’s sort of like that. We put up with stuff that should not be, that don’t belong, simply because we can’t be bothered to make the time to get rid of the mess. And in that process of not caring enough to set things right, we lose so much.

Guess what I finally did today? Here’s a sampling of what I found!

Image

_______________
Feature image by Sander Weeteling on Unsplash

Personal Ramblings, Reading Life Between the Lines

holding it together

Holding it together when you’re running low on energy, patience, time and Christ-likeness is not an easy task. How does one hold it together? Here are some ideas:

1. Take small bites; Whether it’s a sandwich or a major project, tackle it little at a time–with small rewarding breaks in between.

2. Take time to laugh. No matter how busy or long the day has been, laugh (preferably till your tummy hurts or till you cry!)

3. Take a hug, even if you don’t feel like giving one.

And then end the day with a modest amount of chocolate or tofulate or whatever makes you sigh with the warm fuzzies and a goofy smile!

Personal Ramblings

lifebox zero

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.