After concluding that accomplishment is not the ultimate goal; progress, process, life is what matters; after succumbing to this truth (and I dare call it that) I've been ridiculously unmotivated. (Being incredibly ill for the entire week of my holiday vacation hasn't entirely helped lift my spirits and put a fire beneath me) Due to this lack of balance and inability to step forth and grab life by the horns I've resolved to dedicate a small bit of the month of January to organizing the bedroom.
I'm hesitant to acquire anything new. The responsibility of stuff overwhelms me beyond words. But the monstrous collection of things that currently surround me need to be either maintained and treated with the proper respect or dispensed of. The quest has been put forth. I shall clean, organize, discard, grant a breath of fresh air to our home, stumble upon fond memories, operate responsibly, and when the month is over (despite what little or what lot has been accomplished) my conquest will have been realized.
And so I remind myself that the consuming life we lead here in the grand States of America requires responsibility in so many facets. Is the stuff worth the breath expelled, the life wasted, the time required at it's expense? I shall find out. (but I dare say I doubt it)
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