For months now my room has been a bit of a mess.
Little piles of scrunched up letters, unloved products filling up boxes, smears of mascara and foundation on the floor and mirror.
When I was made redundant I told myself I would clear up the mess. It got as far as me chucking the ever growing piles on my desk onto another pile on the floor so that I could work on my laptop, and then that was it. My room was put to the back of my mind and I forgot about my promise to fix it.
Over the last month or so I’ve kind of struggled with knowing what to do with myself. I’ve had good times of course: Bloggers Festival, the Asda Meat Up, meeting Nancy Birtwhistle, getting a freelance job with a national newspaper, having some time with my family and unplanned cups of tea with Joe, getting milkshakes with my best friend regularly, and so on.
But I also kind of lost myself a little bit. I gave up on the gym, I struggled with job hunting and knowing which direction to take next, I spent a bit too much time eating burritos in Whole Foods. I cried a bit, I felt confused and frustrated 70% of the time, I barely blogged and hardly ever scheduled tweets, and so on.
Life is always going to throw all kinds of rubbish. It’s going to get a bit messy through every stage of your life. The difference is that over time you work out your own personal way to get through the mess, and tidy up your life.
A few days ago I decided to tackle the mess in the room. And it feels like as every corner was tidied, cleared and cleaned, different parts of my life were cleared, cleaned and tidied, too.
I ducked under the bed and pulled out boxes full of memories, rubbish, and things I’d forgotten I had. A few moments after and I’d finally pulled my closest friends together for a meal next week – the first one together since July.
I got on my knees and scrubbed my floor, dust collecting on my jeans. A few hours after I did a bit of job hunting, found some that got my heart pumping again, and got myself an interview.
I grabbed armfuls of rubbish and bric a brac, and then a few hours after, grabbed my bag and headed to the gym for the first time in weeks.
I delved through all of my bags and pulled out old forgotten train tickets and sweet wrappers, and then receieved replies to emails that I thought had just been forgotten.
What I’m trying to say, with a weird messy room metaphor, is that life will always get a bit messy sometimes. And sometimes it may just fill up with rubbish. But if you take a deep breath, and tackle each part of the mess one by one, calmly and collectively, you can tidy up your life and get that happy feeling.
That feeling of everything being free, tidy, clean. Being able to breathe in and dance around in the positive space you’ve created.
That feeling of knowing that the mess has been dealt with, and now you can move on to the next part of your life with a clear, free mind.
My room is tidy now, and the hard parts in my life are slowly starting to be seem less messy. And now that some of my mind is cleared, I’m ready to move on to better things.
Who knew tidying a room could be so cathartic?!