It's not good, people.
Tonight at sundown marks the beginning of Rosh Hashanah, the celebration of Jewish New Year. In times past I have used this day to make resolutions for the year to come. This year, I have just one resolution. It will encompass a physical, intellectual, and spiritual problem that I have been avoiding for some time now: The floor of my bedroom closet.
My bedroom closet floor is stuffed with grocery bags. These bags, in turn, are stuffed with paper; miscellaneous paperwork, magazines, and unopened mail. In my daily efforts to "organize" the house, the inbox (our dining room table) is cleared of all paper and set in a stack on the counter. When the stack gets too high, it is moved to a grocery bag which is then slammed into the bottom of my closet to be dealt with at another time. That other time never comes. The shame spiral begins.
I can see a manila envelope peeking out of one of the bags that is labeled: Deal With ASAP. Clearly, that didn't happen.
I have tried unsuccessfully to deal with this issue before, moving the bag project from to-do list to to-do list, never being started. The bags are just so darn... heavy. Now, finally the emotional weight of the bags is pulling me backwards.
While I am tempted to throw away the bags and begin my new life, I know that I can't. Buried somewhere in my personal Hoarders episode is, among other things, our 2012 tax return, the Volvo registration, and Bob's passport. No, the only way out is through.
I resolve to go through these bags of crap and make actual files so that the important crap will have a new place to live and what's left will be tossed. In this way, I will let go of things that are no longer meant for me and I will be free. Perhaps this is a metaphor for other things in my life. Or not.
The Jewish Year is 5774. I will start it with a clean slate, my slate just happens to be a closet floor.
L'Shanah Tovah, everyone.