Three Down – One to Go

Ahhhh … The bathroom is beautiful. The kitchen is magnificent. The living room is … clearly the aftermath of a major storm. Chaos. Cluttered. Uncomfortable. NEXT!

My nine new bookcases need assembly – but not until the walls get painted – so they’re sitting in the middle of the room. Barrister bookcases – they’ll be wonderful. No more constant dusting.

A lovely Heywood Wakefield china cabinet, a dry sink and a butcher block rolling cart will be in the kitchen by mid-week. At last there will be a a place for everything. A new blanket chest that doesn’t occasionally take a swipe at my thigh will also arrive.

It feels good to be at this point in the change process. I can see my vision becoming a reality.

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Change, Chaos and Waiting

The painters have been here for two weeks now and I’m losing my mind. My keys. My shoes. Papers. Bills. You name it – it’s hiding.

My bedroom had been replastered and is now a beautiful pale blue with white trim and a white ceiling. It is also packed with objects that should live in the foyer and back hall and living room. I’m navigating a narrow path that allows access to the top drawers of my (new!!!) bureau, my bed, and, with just a little stretching, the alarm clock. My bed will need a small repair – cracked due to improper moving – that will have to wait until I can actually move around the room.

Bathroom work has taken almost two weeks, partially because of the mess it was, partially because the Super and his brother have other work to do. Their careful, tedious efforts with solvent and razor knives have revealed the original white Subway tiles hidden under ugly navy blue paint. They have added additional tile in the shower, repaired an electrical problem and removed the old floor. And painted. What they have done is lovely.

What’s still to be done is making me insane. I want my sink back!!! Until they retile the floor (Monday, I hope) they can’t install the new sink and vanity. I want my sink back!!! I’m washing in the kitchen sink. Showering in friends’ apartments. I want my sink back!!

Perhaps the living room will get painted next week. Perhaps the kitchen – another huge job, with new sub-floor and floor plus painting – will be done by the week after. Only then can I begin installing the new bookcases and kitchen table and storage units.

Oh, it’s going to be beautiful! Someday.

Meanwhile, chaos in the apartment is spreading to my brain. I need to keep packing things up so the last two rooms can get worked on, but I don’t want to. I need to throw more things out.

Here’s what I want to do – run away from home.

 We decide that we want change in our lives and forget how much work this might be. It takes longer than we want. It involves more hard work than we want. It moves from challenge and fun to slogging and depressing.

Is this true for you? It’s more true for me, right now, than I would like it to be. I’m working hard at not working hard right now. I’m taking great pleasure in the small things that are done. I’m envisioning what it will look like when everything is back in place. And planning a party. And meditating. And turning the process into a series of short games. 

Today, I’m having a party in my head. In December, I’m having one heck of a bash in my apartment!

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow – Part 2

As part of the grand renovation, I’m taking a long look at my possessions and (gasp) throwing things out. If I were better at thinking ahead or more planful, I would have consulted an Amazon or eBay expert months ago. If I had a car, I would be making many, many trips to the library or thrift shops. In the middle of Brooklyn, carless, branch library under construction, no thrift shops nearby, however, I’m simply pitching stuff out.

I have two choices – things my neighbors might use go out near the compacter shaft. Everything else goes out back. I was gratified to hear the sounds of a Mission oak dresser heading to a new home the other day. And the bags of books have been rummaged through. And usable clothing has moved on to some lucky individual in the building. This helps – I like thinking about my old things having a new life. And I don’t like waste, so the less that moves out to the sidewalk trash pick-up, the better.

My biggest decision was to reduce my library by at least 1/3. This has been painful. I treasure my books and almost every one has a story. How can I let them go?

First cut – books I can take to the local used book store and get actual cash and/or books I will give to friends and family. That sort was easy, because it’s an act of sharing. Betsy will love these mysteries. Allison will enjoy these vampire tales that just didn’t work for me. Loretta can make use of these professional books for her work library.

Second cut – old and useless. Some books are just old and not destined to become valuable antiques.  So, two history books that were written before 1900 and are in tatters are now – well, history. Women’s history books go next, except for a few classics. Psychology by unknowns pre-1970 is next. Pre-1990 management books, texts from courses I will never teach again, a German translation (no, I don’t read German) of a book I  have in English, a pile of supper-sappy novels that have absolutely no appeal – all these are easy.

Now we get to the harder stuff. Do I really need a whole shelf of plays from a Modern American Drama course taken in 1966? Will I really come home one evening with a burning desire to read Tiny Alice? OK. No. Out. 

Will I finally read Ulysses? Those biographies of Teddy Roosevelt? Julia Child? How many teach yourself Italian books do I need? Spanish? Will I re-live my Russian Lit. course? I wasn’t all that crazy about Anna Karenina the first time. Oblamov is going. War Tales. Crime and Punishment. Goodbye, all!

Jane Austen gets to stay; much of Steinbeck and Hemingway are going. 

This is hard. I still mourn the loss of a brown corduroy suit I gave away in 1969. But it’s necessary. And important. Streamlining the apartment helps to streamline my thinking. Casting off makes room for new things to come. 

Most of all, this is a great opportunity to look at what’s really important.

What’s important to you?

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow – Part 1

OK. This morning I’m taking a short break from packing things up to begin to chronicle this change. Starting at the top – the part.

Probably you don’t spend a lot of time thinking about how or where you part your hair unless you have one of those interesting zig zag parts. Your hair has a natural part and you go along. Or none – and you also go along or create one and stick to it. I’ve been parting my hair in approximately the same place for a good 30 years now. And I’ve rarely given it second thoughts. Until I noticed that the hair along the part line was thinner than elsewhere. So I shifted the part a tad and went to my stylist.

“We’re moving it!” he said definitively. “It might hurt at first, but you’ll get used to it. And see how much better it looks?”

He was right – hair follicles, it turns out, are not unlike the whole human on (in??) which they reside. It hurt. Hair follicles do not like change. And they let you know about it. For at least a week. Ouch!

Next comes re-training – not just the hair, the human controller. It’s a windy day. Your hair has blown into your face. You reach up to brush it aside – IN THE WRONG DIRECTION. You fiddle with your part. You comb your hair in the wrong direction. You now have to relearn your blow drying routine.

In the end, something as seemingly simple as changing your part works exactly the same way as big changes. Who knew? 

All change involves giving us something in order to move to something else. It involves unlearning and relearning. It involves surfacing tacit knowledge – our old routines – and creating something new. It involves being consciously competent for a week or so until you magically become unconsciously competent in the new routine.

Ah, the joy of finally flipping my hair in the (new) right direction!! The bliss of pain-free parting! On to the rest of the change list with renewed confidence.