My head is like a junk drawer

We all have a junk drawer somewhere. Mine’s in the kitchen under the microwave. Certain items in there have a specific “spot” (like the clips for cereal and cracker bags and my 25’ tape measure). Other stuff is just thrust into the abyss (like a spare key or screw to an unknown something). It isn’t all junk. Just yesterday I found a use for several of those ornery silver twist ties that seem to perpetually pin children’s toys to cardboard packaging (they’re great for making do-it-yourself wine charms.)

Every so often, no matter how honorable my intentions to keep the drawer tidy and relevant, I have to open it wide and reexamine its contents. I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping most of the drawer full of useful things. But there’s something about sorting through your own stuff that’s challenging. Even if my head knows that the 5 inch piece of red string is better off in trash, I need to hear someone ask, “Tell me again why you’re keeping this?”

Life coaching is like a good junk drawer cleaning. You can do it yourself if you can successfully divide yourself in two and then talk to yourself objectively, pointing out things you didn’t see before. I’m no good at that. I need a real second person to help me out.

My junk drawer doesn’t need to be examined every day, but it’s in use at least that often. I can clean it in March and I’ll add and subtract enough treasure to it to warrant another good purging by July. Why did I keep this? Does that reason still exist? Did life change enough for this “treasure” to now be “trash” or vice versa?

When my life gets full of spare parts and rogue ideas, I look to my coach to help me sort out that which is of worth and throw away the rest. There’s incredible energy in the purge.