End of Year Organize & Purge
For some odd reason, in the midst of the busiest season of the year I always find myself organizing and purging. Some call it decluttering. I don't. Decluttering is a messy and undignified word. I am quite fond of the word "purge," and as a Capricorn, "organize" is just part of my DNA. The act of purging itself is actually difficult for me. I'm a sentimental person; and, again, I'm a Capricorn. I can find sentiment in every item I own, and I can eventually use everything currently in my house for it's stated purpose, OR... I can repurpose it given the opportunity.
I don't know, perhaps organizing and purging is a baked in kind of thing for me—get rid of the old and make room for the new. As unusual and weird of a year 2020's been, it's no different for me than any other year in regard to the organize and purge impulse. It's December? Yes! Time to organize and purge!
One of the areas I'm focusing on this year is my computer files. Oh. My. Goodness! What a frightful collection I've got! I am not exaggerating when I claim I've got about two terabytes of information stored between computers, drives, flash drives, and disks—likely more. How many of them are duplicates files, I cannot say.
While I love my Mac computers, I do not love the Apple filing system itself. It's been a burr under my saddle since my first experience with it. It makes dupes when you want to move files, and creates a tangled mess that leads me to ignore it all until I have no more room to operate. It hurts my head trying to figure it all out, so I leave it until I'm forced to deal with it. To say it kills me to delete files, especially when it comes to umpteen versions of all my books is an understatement. But, let's just say I'm thankful all those draft copies are not physical copies or I'd have to have a 20,000 sf house!
Actually, I still have several physical draft copies of my first book I've lugged around with me for 25 years. That first book was 600 pages; yet, I cannot bear to toss them. Each is unique and a step toward finishing something monumental in my life—my first novel. I would bet every writer who's hoping to complete their first novel or who already has knows exactly to what I'm referring.
Sometimes, I'll sit down and read through those hefty drafts, reminiscing through the editing notes in them, marveling at my writing and editing method at the time. It seemed so tedious then. I remember how thrilled I was when I first began editing directing on my computer. Now, so many years later, I realize I felt a connectedness to my work then that often feels missing now. Physically holding something in my hands and making corrections and notes with a wood Ticonderoga pencil as opposed to staring at a glowing screen for hours and hours at a time felt more... real. Comforting, actually. Hmmm... I'm sensing a change of process in my future. Old school redux.
There's no shortage of organizing and purging needed here. Besides my files, I have many other areas I plan to tackle this month so I can start January fresh, with a much lighter load. The truth is, disorganization and an overabundance of stuff can make it difficult for me to write. I have to make my bed, wash my dishes, and pick up the house before I can write with a clear head. As the year goes on, small things I feel I can ignore (like my files—physical and digital) eventually grow out of control and begin to not just clutter my space, but my mind as well.
The part I enjoy most about living in cold country is I'm stuck indoors for the winter months. Sure, I can lay around watching television, or get stuff done. Of course, I use those months to start writing in earnest. Whatever I don't get done by January 1st, I will continue to chip away at during those long winter months.
What's interesting is the older I get, the more I worry about dying in my house, surrounded by stacks and stacks of stuff no one will understand when they come to clean out my house. It really does weigh on my mind, and so I want to avoid that situation at all costs. When I die (which I plan on being a long, long time from now, by the way), I want the clean up crew to say, "Wow, this lady was really neat—and, considerate." This is why I can't die for a long time. I'm just not ready—I need about 30 more Decembers of organizing and purging!