Reclamation

I've always leaned toward being a Type-A personality.  I like when things are orderly so I can find them when I need them.  I'm a preventative maintenance person because (I tell myself) I don't want to deal with the inconvenience of fixing something once it's broken (or cleaning it right when I want to use it).

I slip.  There is a corner of my bedroom that is a complete mess.  I let my mail pile up, and sometimes I leave dirty dishes for the next day.

And every now and then I find myself in a state of helplessness in the universe.  It's humbling to be reminded that I cannot control the health of my friends, the distance between myself and my family, the workload put on me at my place of employment.  It's times like these when I have an overwhelming urge to reclaim control over some small aspect of my life, and usually it's my physical surroundings.

I unload the dishwasher and scrub the bathtub.  I sort through the mail, and file or recycle each piece as necessary.  I fold blankets and towels.  I make beds.  I refresh sofa pillows.

It's not much, but it helps keep my head screwed on and puts things in (much needed) perspective sometimes.

It's like that Sunscreen song from 1997:  "Don't worry about the future.  Or worry, but know that worrying is about as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum."

Just breathe.