Peace and (Dis)order

The recent rains prompted me to go through the stuff I have been keeping in storage for, well, goodness knows how long...

I could have easily tossed out all the excess files in the trash can that morning, but as usual, curiosity and the urge to browse slowed down the sorting process and I was once again looking at the mountain of paper that become a haven to bookworms, silverfish, and 'dust bunnies'.

I focused on the contents of a shelving unit that stood in the corner. There were some novels that were handed down by my mother (a voracious reader who has more time to enjoy at her stage in life at past prime) and several inspirational books that I picked up from book sales over the years.

...then I noted in dismay that there must be at least two more boxes of books that I haven't brought out since we moved to this apartment more than a year ago...

I ended up moving my modest collection(s) of magazines to my bedroom. I had one set that was on travelling, another that was a year's subscription of National Geographic, another on home decorating, and yet another on the fascinating stories of high society. Though I scarcely read through an entire issue at a time, I keep the magazines for an occasional dose of light reading.

I lingered on the huge pile of documents and miscellaneous files, all sorted in folders and binders. They should have been properly kept in a metal filing cabinet, but I decided against getting one since I was so convinced that I could keep the paper stream under control.

The subjects of scrutiny were: training manuals from the courses I delivered or developed when I was working for a call center, modules on coaching and leadership development, materials from the conferences and seminars I attended as a delegate from time to time, excess worksheets and lesson outlines from the years that I worked as an ESL instructor (there were essays written by my students, photocopied sections from references such as textbook and academic journals, notes and handouts from my French, Spanish, and Italian classes conducted by my co-instructors).

I even dug up materials from my university days: term papers, copies from required readings, a published script from "The Apartment", film critiques, shooting guides. As I went through them I recalled discussions from discourse analysis exercises in class.

Even after tossing out a basketful of paper, I still felt that resistance to part with the contents of the remaining folders, which are research materials and references. One would think there should be less need for hard copies what with search engines and wikis --- but I reasoned I could never completely trust anything that’s copy-pasted or inadequately researched.

I feel a sense of calm whenever I sit down to sort things. There is something comfortingly familiar about flipping through pages that open a wealth of knowledge, insight, and even memories. Skimming through files felt like opening tiny drawers in my head and letting ideas leap at me like the little critters that were agitated by my sorting.

Another day was ending, and it looked like the decluttering chore was just starting. In the battle for control over the physical chaos housed in this 12’ by 8’ utility-cum-guest room, I realize that the 'hoarding instinct' is a long, long way from surrendering.