Here's the deal: Cleaning my home office would be easy if that's all it was. But, it's not. It's admitting I'm never going to go to the weaving class on that brochure. Or learn to paint with that book. Or listen to the offspring's 5th grade music recital on that CD. Or write more poetry using the book on meter. Or restring that broken necklace. Or contact any of those people in that Rolodex (curse of the pre-digital age). It's admitting defeat or limiting my options with every toss.

Clutter isn't asign of a disorganized mind. Clutter is evidence a sign of a mind filled with hopes, dreams and ambitions. If only I knew which ones to truly let go of.