An Epiphany

Last weekend was like any other weekend, filled with activities, friends, and various bustling around. My goal was to finish organizing my filing cabinet, and to put away that monstrous, pesky file-pile once and for all. Sunday was my day to accomplish this, with the uplifting trance beats of Digitally Imported Radio streaming from my computer speakers.

That Sunday was unremarkable, yet profound. It was that day that I completely obliterated the once-astronomical to-do list for my new apartment.

Everything is done.

The boxes are all unpacked. The pictures and mirrors are hanging on the walls. My CDs, tapes, and 12" records are sorted alphabetically in their respective display cases. My yearbooks, old sports uniforms, and other souvenirs of my life are in plastic crates, sorted and labeled by time period.

Everything is done !

My extensive collection of photographs, once haphazardly stuffed into non-contiguous albums and envelopes, are now in albums in chronological order. And that pack of pictures that I removed when I was 15 years old ? It finally made its way back into its place. 16 years later.

For the first time in my life, everything that I own is organized.

Beforehand, all my beloved books were hastily thrown in boxes and hidden away in the closet. These boxes followed me from Toronto to California - still closed, still hidden, still waiting for their release. Now, they are prominently displayed in my spacious new bookshelf, alongside my growing collection of new acquisitions. I actually have time to read these days. Imagine that.

In my previous life, my domicile was perpetually filled with piles of papers, collections of junk, and an inconceivably long to-do list that could never be reduced. The 3-4 hour daily commute, and a then-husband with severe packrat tendencies, prevented me from doing any more than routine cleaning and scrubbing. I was powerless. My life was out of control. I could barely avoid being overwhelmed by it all.

Now, the huge piles of papers are ancient history. I have a nice three-tiered tray from Ikea for all my bills and paperwork. It sits on my new kitchen stand, accompanied by a cup of pens and my Weight Watchers tracker. And the mail is always opened the same day I receive it. No more backlog. Ever.

When I first moved into this new apartment, striking out on my own, I made a promise to myself. I promised that my place would always be 'company ready', and that I would never have to apologize for messes or dirt. Of course, I am nowhere near perfect, and don't want or strive to be. My goal is simply to be presentable at all times.

For the first time in my life, my home is something I can truly be proud of.

I decorated it all myself. Yes, the bill from Bed, Bath and Beyond was a staggering amount by the time I was done. I think I paid a year's worth of salary for one of their employees. But it was worth it, to create my sanctuary.

For the first time in my life, I am truly free.

Free from the debilitating chains of a relationship that had run its course. Free from the crushing weight of disorganization and lack of focus. Free from my own inner dialogue that for years held me back from striving for my goals.

I am free to become the person I have always wanted to be.

My space is my own. My future is my own. My life is my own.

There is nothing left that can take that away.