It was a day without a plan. The kind of day where you allow yourself to be buffeted along on the wind
The kind of day when plans are made, and some unmade
The kind of day you clear your sock drawer
I am sat writing at my table under the window. It's a still Saturday afternoon
My husband taps me on the shoulder and I look. Wrong shoulder .. hilarious ..
I had been busy writing until he and Everest caught my imagination
“How many socks can one man have?” I ask
“You can never have too many socks” he replies, studiously pairing colourful couples
“Evidently not” I answer, raising an eyebrow
This is an annual event
Never a planned event, but an annual event nonetheless
There reaches a tipping point where the drawer screams for order
It got me thinking ..
When socks become disorganised and stale, we invest (albeit grudgingly) in sorting the disarray
We happily disregard items that no longer match our mood, or are sad and tired
And seek out fresh new additions to add extra spring to our step
Yet I wonder how much time we invest in decluttering our mind
How many times do we spring clean ourselves, seek out new season thoughts or rid ourselves of those that no longer serve
I wonder if the drawers of our mind would benefit from an annual refresh
I’ve learnt over the years my mind doesn't function well when overflowing and disorganised
Conscious small investments of focus, over time, compound and keep my thoughts in order
To work at its optimum, I need a regular declutter to prevent an Everest emerging
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