Friday has come. How is it, I'm only just writing about Monday? My current "get rid of it" total is at 56, so I have 10 minutes and 56 seconds to write this evening, starting NOW.
Monday night is Maggie's night. I have a special evening assigned to each one of my children, so that I am sure to get a special hour JUST with them each week. I let them pick the activity (within reason), and we have had some extremely memorable evenings! This week, Maggie wanted to have a make-up party.
After dinner, we raced each other up to my bathroom, and she proceeded to pull out every bit of make-up and nail polish she could find. It was my turn to go first, she said, because she went first last time. Fifteen minutes later, I was a sight! What a lalapalooza! My eye brows were traced dark, and she had drawn long eye lashes off of those. She had used every color eye pencil I owned. My cheeks were crayon red. My eyeshadow implied a beating. My lipstick--well--not too bad actuallly!
During my makeover, a lesson was forming. I had been up late the previous night going through a mere third of my kitchen contents. Many, many items had not been used at all since I put them in the drawer; yet, I still felt the pang off letting go when I put them in the box labeled Goodwill. Why? Why did I feel the need to have all these THINGS even knowing I had not used them or needed them?
It occurred to me, that my culinary collection was a lot like Maggie's total use of my make-up collection. If a little bit was useful or attractive, why not assume that A LOT would be optimally useful or beautiful?
I spoke to my daughter, hearing the words of my own mother come out of my mouth, "Less is more!" "It should look natural!" And I felt the truth of those words when I finished one side of my kitchen. Visually, it was approachable, inviting, and inspired thoughts of what could be; whereas, before, the sight of it had repelled me, and caused me to feel dread because of the work that needed to be accomplished before it was even usable.
Finishing that first small section of my house was satisfying and fulfilling, and I am determined not to be a lalapalooza in the "thing" department, but rather a "lalapaLOSER!"