Less is More
I am a very disorganized person. Both in my mind and physically. I struggle to keep things where they are supposed to be kept. And I struggle to keep experiences where they are supposed to be. One of my to-do lists was an activity of organizing my wardrobe. I had kept it on priority as I was no longer able to take the mess my wardrobe was handling. Clothes on top of each other, all messed up, and every day I struggled to find my belongings. So I had decided. I picked up the phone and called Shalini and asked her if she could come and help me with rearranging my entire room and my wardrobe. She readily agreed. We had fixed up for Friday that week, and to say that I was eagerly waiting for Friday to come would be an understatement. In my mind, I had the entire day planned. What would I discard, what would I keep, what would go where, etc.. etc.
Friday morning my spirit was on a different kind of a high. The fact that all those things which trouble me in front of my eyes would not be there anymore was a reason good enough for me to smile. Also a sense of relief. I hate organizing, but here I was today waiting for Shalini to come so we could kick start our BIG TASK
She arrived at 10:00 am sharp with Pongal and sambar which I totally relished. Following that we sat and browsed through a few online decor portals to check if we needed something for the room and for organizing. I went ahead and booked a rack where I could arrange my over-enthusiastic collection of books. Quite honestly, as much as I wanted to kickstart the de-cluttering process and organizing my wardrobe, a part of me resisted it. The sight of a heap of clothes and things that I very rarely use overwhelmed me. My mind suddenly stopped working and I felt I am left stranded in the middle of nowhere. But like unattended emotions and feelings that don’t leave you unless and until you sit face to face with them, I knew the mess in my wardrobe was waiting for me to sit down with them and attend to them.
After trying to kill over an hour doing some unproductive stuff, I finally gathered the courage to go to my wardrobe and remove all the clothes, one shelf at a time, placing it all on the bed and then as if each pair of clothing was waiting to talk to me, I picked them up one by one and looked at them, tried to recollect where all have I worn that piece, then contemplated if they would still fit me, will I still want to keep it, or rather give it away to someone else. I spent the next 4 hours doing just this. I folded all the clothes while Shalini helped me arrange them. She would invariably tell me to keep most of the stuff. You never know when you would need them, she would say. But how do I explain to her that everything has an expiry date in our lives? They might not cease to exist but they sure cease to exist in our universe. That there’s a time for everything and everyone. We might decide to go ahead and still try to keep the stuff, but it serves no purpose. If anything, they occupy a huge space in our lives and the burden of carrying them all along is enough to weigh us down. I decided to go with my instincts of letting go of all those things I haven’t used in the last couple of years so I could make space for newer, better things to come.
In between all this, I would excuse myself to go to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee or eat lunch. You know how you want to escape the mess which you created but you can’t. As much as you resist, it persists. Something like that. Nonetheless, after an entire day of organizing, re-organizing, clearing, I finally could look at my wardrobe and smile. Smile big. Ahhh, this felt good. More space in my heart and my mind and my closet. I sometimes wonder if closets are synonymous with our minds.
While we all crave for MORE in our life, it’s the LESS that makes life beautiful. Fewer clothes, less mess, less baggage, less expectations… Less is lighter. Less is easy. Less is actually more.
I was smiling big at this achievement of mine. For someone who despised and sucks at organizing, here I was, not only clearing the clutter but also arranging and putting stuff to where it belonged. I was excited like a kid in candy land, for my husband to come and see this miracle. I knew he would be surprised to see this. For someone who always needed help even to arrange a suitcase while traveling, now stood doing the unthinkable. I couldn’t wait for him to come and see this new, renewed closet.
When he arrived, I jumped in joy and opened my wardrobe door for him to see what I ended up creating. He smiled, shrugged, hugged me, and gave me a look. And while he did that, his attention was on other things in the room which still needed some clearing. I told him I will clear it all up in the next 10 minutes. We then went about doing our stuff, since we had our dance master coming in less than 15 minutes. For some reason, I did not enjoy the dance class that day. In fact, even after being able to get out of my comfort zone and doing something which I otherwise normally wouldn’t, I was in a dodgy mood. My husband and I ended up having a big argument the first in 3 years, that night. And a fight over something totally irrelevant. We fought and argued over attending or not attending the next day’s social event. We went to bed with our backs facing each other.
The next morning while I sat on my balcony, having my cup of chai and looking beyond the skies and the birds, I thought to myself. What exactly was the reason for our fight? It surely wasn’t the dinner plan. I ran the entire day’s events in my mind, piece by piece, moment by moment. A visual of all my essentials spread out waiting to be picked up and kept in order, me toiling the entire day, my neatly arranged wardrobe, and my husband’s smile. And there it was, big bold right in front of my eyes. All I looked for a were a few words of appreciation from him. That’s what kept me going. The fact that he would come back and be pleasantly surprised with my efforts and the outcome and tell me — I am so proud of you! That’s it. That’s what I was waiting to hear.
Like I waited my entire life to hear. When I topped my college in English literature, when I got myself my first corporate job, my first ever gig as an emcee, my first paycheck, when I shared stage space with the likes of Amitabh Bachchan, and MS Dhoni, when I took the responsibility of becoming the man of the house, all along, that’s what my heart longed for — just these words — Sweetheart, I am proud of you! I wish, I deeply wish Dad that you had told me these words a long time back. For you, it might not mean a thing, but for me, it meant the world. It’s strange how just words can deeply impact us and our behaviors. Words from our loved ones, which we often choose to overlook.
That day I told my loved one how proud I was of her, and her efforts. The look she gave me in the mirror was a million-dollar one. And I went about my day, acknowledging to myself — Shilpa, I am proud of you! I AM. I truly am.
