Solutions for Indecision from Water Babies

In the land of Hearsay, Tom (the hero of The Water Babies by Charles Kingsley, serialized in England in the 1860's) meets a a giant who is also a naturalist: 'He was made up principally of fish bones and parchment, put together with wire and Canada balsam; and smelt strongly of spirits, though he never drank anything but water; but spirits he used somehow, there was no denying it. He had a great pair of spectacles on his nose, and a butterfly net in one hand, and a geological hammer in the other; and was hung all over with pockets, full of collecting boxes, bottles, microscopes, telescopes, barometers, ordnance maps, scalpels, forceps, photographic apparatus, and all other tackle for finding out everything about everything, and a little more too.'

The giant, obviously a kind of Scanner, has a motto some of us might find useful:


'Do the duty which lies nearest you, and catch the first beetle you come across.'


This is something I have incorporated into my methods for overcoming my resistance to organizing or tidying tasks. When things pile up too high, when I don't know where to start, I work my way around a room, arbritrarily starting on the right and choosing a table or chair or horizontal space full of clutter to clear. I take each thing on that nearby piece of furniture (or floor!) and put it away or throw it out (I give myself extra points for anything I throw out).

If my head is clear, I can find the place where each thing belongs, a home I've set up for it, and take it there. But sometimes I haven't gotten a place ready, haven't even considered it, just assuming that some things--postcards, gift books accompanied by kind notes from their authors, a beautifully colored little piece of cloth--will never have a home because I can't think of a category or a container for them. Maybe I'll find a special basket or drawer for all of them (as soon as I can figure out what to call them).

Sometimes, however, I do a very strange version of 'doing the duty which lies nearest me and catching the first beetle I come across' and I call it The Walkabout. I take an item, say a spoon, from my bedroom and walk it into the kitchen and put it in the sink to wash later. Then I look around for something that doesn't belong in the kitchen, say, a DVD sitting by the radio, and carry it into the room with the DVD player and place it in the right box. Once in that room, I look around for something that doesn't belong, pick it up and carry it into another room where I put it away.

I do a lot of walking (ergo the name 'Walkabout') have a lot fun, often finding little things I forgot I had, sometimes spotting something clearly that had successfully hidden in plain view from me for weeks--like a pile of magazines I know I won't read--and triumphantly carry them to the trash. While this is entertaining, it has its limits so i usually have a time-limit in my head, say 15 or 20 minutes, before I stop and do something else. Also I frequently have music or talk radio playing to keep me from getting bored (but I recently had to buy a number of inexpensive little radios for each room so I wouldn't get captivated by some discussion or piece of music and begin dusting or cleaning one place instead of continuing to walk from room to room.

Cleaning up has its satisfactions, a sparkling kitchen sink, a spotless floor, but anyone can do it, usually better than I and it always seems more temporary than de-cluttering. And putting away the items I've packed and unpacked, carried and scattered all over the house is a job of decision-making and choice, naming and finding proper containers for, a constructive and creative process no one can do with me things, but me.