This week was full of weird coincidences and faces from the past, and it turned into a meditation on choices made and roads not taken. And I realized I don’t want to get more organized. I want to get less organized. I’m looking at the list of to-do and thinking: is this really how I plan to use my time?
Instead, I want to spend the weekend listening to jazz on the radio while I work on a new painting. I want to sit in the sun and drink coffee and watch the world walk by. I want to talk – really talk – to people. I want to write a letter to a friend instead of catching up on FaceBook.
I spend my day, my workday, my week, my life organizing – my job is mostly organizing, and my home life is one giant, never-ending task list. You know what? No. These days I don’t want the (diminishing) mental rewards of a job well done. I want the rewards of a job not done at all. I want to look at the yard and not make a list. I want to stop planning my days, and live them.
So that’s what I did. It took me just fifteen minutes to score a drafting table off the neighborhood listserv. I set up my art space again, out in the open where I can use it on a whim instead of hidden away like something I’m ashamed of. Then I cranked up Mahalia Jackson on our local station and I painted. It smells like acrylic and Sennelier pastels and pencil shavings in here. It’s delightful. I hope that you, too, will consider unorganizing your life.