At Peace With Paper

This week has been anything but exciting.  My highlight (so far) came from the fact that I perused our little town newspaper and found an ad that all county residents can drop off all personal documents they need shredded, during a free recycling event Saturday.  This is very exciting.  Do you know what this means?  It means that I can avoid sitting in front of my cheap, hand-me-down shredder for a few hours, while I destroy receipts, bills and credit card applications, to the sound of a whiney and overworked motor.

It means no paper cuts.

It means no more piles of “I’ll get to that”.

It means silence – less frustration – and no overheating small appliances.

I try to be organized, but my ambitions and lack of time only take me so far.  I have a file box with hanging folders that are appropriately labeled and organized.  Instead, I usually end up with a three inch pile of paperwork that is crammed between the tops of the folders and the lid.  Eventually the lid doesn’t close; I drag the box somewhere and it spews all over.  Not today.  I spent the last couple hours weeding through the least eighteen months of paper we “might need to reference one day” and I’m so ready for Saturday.

You can say I’m lame and ask why I’m actually wasting even more time on this by writing about it, but it’s truly exciting to me.  Just a couple months ago, I dreamed of having myself an office and a workable and clean workspace.  I’m so close.  My walls still need to be painted and my books are in Rubbermaid tubs for the moment, but my desk is perfect, as I’m not pushed up against a wall and I’m not seeing scattered piles of paper to distract me from the calm demeanor this room is supposed to enable.  I feel at peace with paper.

Now, what to do with my hoards of greeting cards that I’ve saved…

Sometimes I wish I were heartless.  My house would be so much less cluttered and my basement would be empty to build our dream pub.  For another day, I’m feeling too accomplished to put that kind of weight on my shoulders tonight.

Photo courtesy of rangershredding.com.

Yogi: I Say “Bear” and You Say “Namaste”

When life is chaotic and non-stop, we all need a moment to sit and relax.  My mind is always going, even when I get that opportunity.  I’m in total envy of those people who can sit and meditate or just focus on one’s breath.  My mind just jumps from one thing to another.  And although my Evernote app has taken a fair share of constant “to do” lists out of constant rotation in my brain, I can’t get the wheels to stop spinning.

Groupon had a great deal on a set of ten yoga classes at a studio near my house; such a great deal that it would be like paying for three regular priced classes.  Who doesn’t need an hour to just sit on the floor and zone out?  I always liked the idea of yoga as a hobby, because I’m realistic to know that I’m not the kind of girl who could become a true yogi and live that naturally peaceful lifestyle on a day to day basis.  As appealing as it would be, I’d be kidding myself to think that was likely.  But I did like the idea of keeping my mat in the car and wearing my cute yoga pants to class here and there, and getting a nice and exaggerated session of stretching to calming music.

I aspire to practice a regular activity that calms me rather than burdens me.

I was given three months to use these 10 classes.  Guess who used half my classes and has a little less than two weeks left to keep going?  This gal.  I truly think I psyche myself out when it comes to yoga.  The fact that I can’t get my mind to relax and focus on the ultimate goal of yoga is so frustrating for me.  Though I am usually proud that I’m more flexible than I thought, I’m also a klutz.  I also don’t follow verbal directions well since I’m a visual learner.  That being said, I always get an outgoing teacher who wants to try some new and complex activity during a beginner class, which causes me to strain my neck to focus on where my body parts should be.  Oh yeah, and meanwhile I can’t forget to focus on my breathing.  Before you know it, I’m slightly stressed, my hands are slippery and I can barely stay in the downward facing dog without panicking that I’ll face plant into my mat.

This is not relaxing.

There is a meditation class option coming up.  I think this could be a possibility.  The less focus on movement and the more focus on easing the mind there is, the better off I will be.  I respect what yoga is and the practice, I think maybe it’s not my thing.  My biggest takeaway from my last class what getting the instrutor to give me the artists on her playlist, because it had been driving me crazy the entire session. Maybe I could just go back to listening to a peaceful album with headphones on to mentally drift, like I could in high school.  I’ll even throw in a stretch once or twice to make it a little healthier.

Image courtesy of yogaworkouthq.com