Yesterday I cleaned out my closet for the hundredth time over the years. It appears to have a life of its own. Once I have everything in place, something very mysterious happens. It seems that some entity invades the space and slowly but surely creates chaos. It’s done slowly so that I am only mildly aware of the fact that it’s returning to it’s previous disarray until I become witness to a jumble of clothing and shoes that become impossible to untangle.
It amazes me how much tolerance I have for the above insanity. Months go by before I finally lose it and decide to change the situation. The amount of energy I have expended looking for stuff is mind boggling. I have probably shortened my life span because of the ranting I do while trying to find simple things like socks that match.
I recall one incident several years ago, when the closet had run amok, and I had to do the keynote for a corporate event. I had decided the night before to choose an outfit but waited till morning to pick out a pair of shoes. I knew which ones I wanted to wear, and once I made that choice, I was hell bent to follow through. It was getting late and I was feeling incredibly pressured to get going. I went into the closet and found one shoe. There were a myriad of mismatched shoes strewn around, but the missing shoe was no where to be found. Now, I became suspicious that someone must have taken it. The only other person in the house was my ex-husband. The irony of this thought process is the fact that I teach stress management and in particular how irrational thoughts create our stress.
Obviously at that moment I was not in touch with my own irrationality. My ex-husband is six foot three and has a size twelve shoe. Why in Gods name would he be walking around wearing a size seven black pump? I even went so far as to accuse him of taking it. I just knew he had hidden it to get back at me for something I might have done that he didn’t like. It was time to leave for my event and there was no shoe to be found, so I opted for what most rational individuals would do, I wore another pair that were easily visible.
Even though my closet still seems to return to a place of disarray, the one thing I do refrain from is making myself or anyone else nuts over it. No one created the mess but me. However, taking ownership of different situations that we have created or help to create is not always easy, and they’re not always as simple as a messy closet. Becoming accountable for our actions is a sign of maturity and also something that can help us live with more inner peace.