Saturday, October 9, 2010

I wish I was a Neat Freak

On a scale from 1-10, 10 being anal about organization and cleanliness, I'd say I'm a 7. But I envy 10's. I'm a wanna-be neat-freak. I admire people who fold precisely, make labels for things you wouldn't expect to be labeled, etc.

When your stuff is in order. Your stuff is in order. Your thoughts run smoother, your time runs more effectively. Period.

I'm a 7 and not a 10 because I let certain less-used drawers go mad and I'm a pile-er. While my closet and desk are organized, the drawer where I keep my sewing kits looks like a vomited bundle of threads, material, zippers, scissors, sequins, and pins.

Every time I go to replace a button I subconsciously brace myself. It kind of stresses me out.

Notice, do you "brace yourself" or "avoid" or "look away" from mess?

Yesterday I couldn't taken it any more. What started off as an innocent repair to one of my favorite shirts ended in an attack of my little craft drawer. I stayed up until 1:30am on a Friday night clearing the mess. (I know, I'm so glam).

Let me tell you, now that it's done, I actually feel lighter. Even though I rarely visit that drawer, it still silently gnawed at me having it in disorder. This morning, (this is a little sick-o) I looked in and just reveled in it. It felt a little better than some sex. That good.

For those of you lower on the scale or with higher tolerance to mess, I don't care what you say, getting your stuff in order creates more order inside you.

So give it a try. Start small. Go for your wallet, go for your desktop, go for your calendar, go for your medicine cabinet. Clearing it up will give you instant HIGH.

Living today as a 10.

On Track

Today I was waiting for the R subway as usual in Times Square. As the slight, warm, warning breeze of a coming train stirred, I edged closer to the platform, looking in to spot a confirmation. Yes! There it is. The light at the beginning of the tunnel.

For non-New Yorkers reading this post, the way you identify a train is by: 1) The Letter or Number visible on the front of the train and on its windows 2) The color of the circle surrounding that letter or number.

As soon as the train surfaced into light I noticed that instead of seeing my anticipated yellow circle with the letter "R," I saw a blue circle with the letter "H." I never heard of an "H" train. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. Then I saw a quick glimpse of my familiar "R" on the window of another car. Then I saw an upside-down "N," and then I saw an "M". These are all signs on the same train, just on different cars.

The train passed the station, not stopping. "Out of service," said the voice of Times Square.

Hmmm. That train seemed confused, I thought. That must be why it's not in service.

Ding! ding! ding! This thought would make a great blog post.

So here it a.m. AHA translation of all those signs:

If you feel confused about who you are or are just having an off/disorienting day, do something to be of service to someone or something. Helping others is what makes you feel purposeful, reminding you why YOU matter.

For example, the fastest way to snap myself out of a spiraling negative mess is to give someone else a lift. It can be small - like giving a stranger a compliment, offering my seat to an older person, or listening to a friend who wants to be heard. Also, realizing others are in need doesn't make me feel so lonely in whatever I'm experiencing.

The reason why this works for me, for others, and I bet you, too, is because we're literally wired to help one another. If you do it enough, on a regular basis, there's actually something called the "helper's high" which has similar effects to a "runner's high" in the body.

Sometimes we can't avoid the sensation of not knowing where we're going, of being too many things, and perhaps, sometimes we might even miss our stop. But the opportunity to be in-service is always in your control.


Sunday, October 3, 2010

Punched in the Face. Seriously.

"It is not what happens to you but how you respond to what happens to you." - Anonymous

Yesterday I was visiting the Bronx Zoo. It was super fun. I was in a great mood. Fascinated by the animals. Centered by watching little monkeys eat leaves.

As I stood eagerly checking out the mice in the Mouse House, the dark little mouse house, BAMMMM! Right in my nose. I'm hit. My nose. My eyes. My chin. OWWWW.

It turns out someone in front of me decided to use all his force to turn around and accidentally land his elbow on my face.

I have never been hit in the face so hard. And my contact lens popped up into the upper lid of my eye. I couldn't see from one eye suddenly. I wasn't sure what was happening. Is my nose broken? Are my eyeballs in place?

I was with a very kind gentleman/ date which made this whole episode even better. HOT.

It's okay. You can laugh. I would have if I wasn't hurting.

As someone who believes that everything happens for a reason, this situation was a challenge to understand. But sometimes we need not understand, just accept.

There was no bad intention on behalf of the owner of the huge elbow. So, what to do? Get some ice. Re-locate my contact lens in the lost ether of my eye-lid. Laugh and enjoy the rest of my day.

And I did.

Much love with her all her face in place (thank goodness).