A rush of blood to the head provoked a moment of unpacking a box (I still have many from moving last year). Not just any box, but the large, misshapen box of random and unrelated items sitting in an ugly mess in my studio. Goodness knows how paper bags, fabric garden decorations, kids airline bags, souvenirs from a trip to France five years ago and a specimen jar (unused) ended up in the same box … along with a bra that I’ve been looking for since moving! Mine is not question why, but to rejoice in the miraculous reappearance.
One of the wonders of tidying, apart from living in less of a mess, is finding little treasures in the bottom of boxes. This one emerged from the depths today. I can’t remember who said it or when, but still seems entirely relevant.
Decide what it is you want. Write that shit down. Make a fucking plan. And work on it. Every. Single. Day. Stop the glorification of busy.