How to Romanticize a (very) Messy Desk

An (re)introduction of the self in stacks.

My desk is a mess. And I want be clear, more messy than you think. I operate in clutter. Some scoff at this but my clutter people, you get it. My style is one of stacker. I stack the books, I stack the habits (thanks James Clear) and I stack the healing modalities back to back. I also stack the love and my calendar is one after the other. I am by trade, a stacker. As I take inventory of these plentiful piles atop my desk, I am feeling today that these specific stacks are very reflective of who I am as a person, let me introduce myself…

My desk has upon it:

• a poetry book called She Holds the Cosmos next to Viktor E. Frankl's Man's Search For Meaning (which no, I have not read it yet).

• there are oracle decks aplenty (at least three on my desk and one on the floor).

• an absolute behemoth of a book called Eve by Cat Bohannon takes residency here to my bottom left.

• I see two velvet-y pink scrunchies.

• my huge mustard macrame earrings are an accessible option to add flare to any ZOOM meeting.

• oh wait, a third scrunchie, this one is has butterflies all over.

• two fairies are staring up at me from the right, one of them has broken wings and my middle daughter carried them inside from their fairy home ever-so-gently seeking care…and glue.

• behind them is the sweetest felt whale ornament smiling up at me that a dear retreat friend sent to me. He is right on top of a box of unopened kleenex.

• a framed photo of black and white hearts leans there in the back.

• three addressed and sealed envelopes patiently waiting stamps I keep forgetting to buy.

• Mary Oliver has her spot right there in the center.

• An almost done self-heating mug of coffee.

• 2 black pens, one is broken and the other reads ‘YOU ARE A GODDAMN FORCE’ on the side of it.

• An amethyst crystal slice my youngest daughter likes to pretend is her phone.

• Oh look, another hair accessory, a barrette with a flower on it.

• Two completed journal with mushrooms all over the cover.

• A vision board peeks from the back left with the word ‘magical’ as the only word I can read from here, telling.

• 2 illustrations my oldest child made for a book I am writing, I can only see the jellyfish as an un-opened bill from my eye doctor, again so telling.

• My dear friend Kimothy Joy gifted me her daily practice journal called Focus Pocus, it sits here more as an option - utilized less daily but right on time.

• A printed workbook about modern day homemaking is half filled in, ironic.

• An unread issue of THE SUN magazine.

• And a blue-ish purple-ish post-it note fell off the back of my desk that lists my core values.

• Another mushroom notebook with a call agenda is atop the Eve book.

• And a list of pediatric dentists to call.

• Oh now I see a hand-drawn purple dinosaur breathing fire next to the black and white hearts

• And a handwritten poem with scratch out that I love, it reads (shared with permission):

My Mom 

by E. Hynes

My mom is so sparkle.

My mom cares about other people. 

My mom is the best.

My mom will take care of me. 

She will give me a hug. 

My mom will love her family.

It is not a large desk, folks. A wooden desk that belonged to my husband's Grandmother. And yet, there I am strewn across the top of its worn wood.

I wonder if I have so often gone seeking many answers beyond myself, in a self help book or even reflection in a fantasy character, and here I am - strewn all over my desk. A poet, a mother, someone seeking spirit anywhere and in every card. I am a modern day maker of a home, an imperfect clutter with a care for flare and compassion for others. There I am in thoughtful envelopes that will land so very late and yet somehow, right when needed. Mary Oliver 4ever would be a journal cover I would buy, she still mothers us from beyond with words and wisdom of the importance of noticing and going for a walk. And when Chris asks me what I do with all my creative writing, I will show him the stacks of completed journals full of client call notes and wild scribbled writing and say ‘somewhere in these’ and we can play hide and go seek. To which he will roll his eyes at the audacity of me hiding my creativity so I can't find it and he will go make another coffee. So what if I am that purple fire breathing dragon one day and a sparkle the next? How divine. Let me put my macrame earrings on here as I have a client shortly and make room here in the front to take notes as Mary Oliver and Eve hold my computer so I have an elevated view on the screen - of course. 

And wait. Can I tell you something funny?

My husband asked me just this past weekend, ‘how do you work like that?’. As he is very organized with his desk and his many different screens he uses and file folders. And I just smiled at him and nodded, I have stopped explaining things to people who don't want to understand. And that is not a jab at him, it is more a compliment to me to know when to explain and to know when to just say, yes it is a mess in there, huh?

However. He had placed two stacks of things on my desk from the kitchen that same day and the rage I felt that he thought he could just throw something on my desk willy nilly and clutter up my own style of stacks with his haphazard stacking…. RAGE! The audacity, even.

Isn't being human so wonderful and ironic and funny and annoying and expansive and complex?

Dare I say this: don’t go find yourself, you’re probably right there in front of you.

---