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krikketgirlI got so much accomplished yesterday! All of the tasks accomplished were little things, but they added up to a lot.
As I've been unpacking the jumble of boxes that seem to never end, I've been thinking a lot about patterns. Over time, we all develop ruts in life--well-traveled places that we use over and over because they work or because, at some point, they worked. Part of the problem with ruts, of course, is that when circumstances change or life changes or you change, those ruts are still there. And because they're easy to follow, they remain even when they no longer work.
That's how moving has been. When we moved into our old house, I had a toddler and was expecting a second child. The house saw us through the birth of our youngest, through my staying at home, working part-time, working full-time, going to school. Every stage came with its accumulations and its adjustments to patterns, but because life flows so swiftly, few of those patterns were thought about with any real eye to their effectiveness.
But then, as our life has been upended and swirled and shaken, it has been a golden opportunity to look at those patterns. It is impossible to pack all of one's goods and not think, "Why do I have this? Why did we ever keep that?" Books and dishes and goods that were once stored separately are now conglomerated and you suddenly see that you have four copies of that James Thurber collection and two sets of the complete works of O. Henry.
Beyond the patterns of material things, I'm looking at the patterns of living. A new house means the new ruts haven't taken hold yet. I want to start from the beginning to establish good patterns and to support those patterns by what I keep and how I keep it. It's slow going. No good pattern was ever made in a hurry.
As I've been unpacking the jumble of boxes that seem to never end, I've been thinking a lot about patterns. Over time, we all develop ruts in life--well-traveled places that we use over and over because they work or because, at some point, they worked. Part of the problem with ruts, of course, is that when circumstances change or life changes or you change, those ruts are still there. And because they're easy to follow, they remain even when they no longer work.
That's how moving has been. When we moved into our old house, I had a toddler and was expecting a second child. The house saw us through the birth of our youngest, through my staying at home, working part-time, working full-time, going to school. Every stage came with its accumulations and its adjustments to patterns, but because life flows so swiftly, few of those patterns were thought about with any real eye to their effectiveness.
But then, as our life has been upended and swirled and shaken, it has been a golden opportunity to look at those patterns. It is impossible to pack all of one's goods and not think, "Why do I have this? Why did we ever keep that?" Books and dishes and goods that were once stored separately are now conglomerated and you suddenly see that you have four copies of that James Thurber collection and two sets of the complete works of O. Henry.
Beyond the patterns of material things, I'm looking at the patterns of living. A new house means the new ruts haven't taken hold yet. I want to start from the beginning to establish good patterns and to support those patterns by what I keep and how I keep it. It's slow going. No good pattern was ever made in a hurry.
