Recently it occurred to me: I'll never finish "getting organized" like I will never finish the laundry.
I remember the day, shortly after becoming a mother when I longed to be done with the laundry. I looked over at my two pooping, spewing, spitting yet darling newborn girls and it hit me with the heft of their carseats on each side of my head: an endless cycle of dirty laundry would be as much a part of my new life as their coos and giggles and slobbery kisses.
And fitness is the same way too. It's not as if one day you become fit enough to stop working out. Staying fit is an ongoing process (yet one I enjoy much more than laundry) and requires a steady, and sometimes surging effort. If I keep at it, though, even little by little, I stay fit.
That's when the fireworks went off. Huge, colorful, loud fireworks. Do you see and hear them too?
Being organized is not a finished state of being. It is a process. It requires my time.
If being organized requires some of my precious time, then, how much do I value being organized? That's how I'll know whether or not being organized will be part of my repertoire.
While I don't want to be scatterbrained (says the woman who lost her purse twice last week), I don't need everything categorized and labeled either (says the woman who 15 years ago swore she'd walk out of her future husband's apartment if his CDs were alphabetized).
What I decided, on my snowshoes, is that I just need to be organized enough. Like my house is clean enough. My house is never all clean. I just have to tidy up a little this day and a little that day (while I tackle a load of perpetual laundry) here and there so I don't become an episode of Hoarders.
So it is with my fitness. A workout here, there and anywhere, manages to keep me fit enough.
Copyright © 2008 - 2014 Kara Douglass Thom. All rights are reserved.