i love me some note cards.

i never leave home with out them. they are the perfect place to record a genius idea, deposit toddler scribbles, and spit out used gum. i wrote all of my school papers, from tenth grade through graduate school, by putting one fact one each note card, arranging them into themed stacks, putting the stacks in order, and settling down in front of my computer in the midst of a veritable note card village. i even wrote my most recent homily this way.

when i started the re[frame] productivity system for creative people a few months ago, it wasn’t so much because i had friends who had successfully completed the program and were happy with the results. nor was the main draw its enticing low price of $42 for six weeks worth of daily emails explaining a detailed process in simple, attainable steps. it was the note cards, folks. i loved the idea of writing one “to do” on each note card and organizing them in a cute little box under headings for each day of the week. so excited was i about the power of this little box and its contents to transform my chaotic world that i diligently worked the note card system for months.

during this time, i returned emails and phone calls promptly, sent school picture money back on time, made headway on long overdue projects (the sewing room reorganization, for example), and developed a regular schedule for household tasks such as doing laundry and making dinner. i was the very picture of productivity. the problem was that i wasn’t feeling very creative anymore.

there was no time to whip up crazy pants for my boys in my newly organized sewing room. i began having visions of things i wanted to paint or cook, but there wasn’t time to bring them to life. i pictured myself (and still do) dropping by amro music of an afternoon, renting a fiddle, and spending “free time” indulging myself and horrifying others with the excruciating cacophony only a beginning fiddler could produce.

so for the last six weeks or so, i have abandoned my dear note cards. we are living in piles of laundry and dirty dishes but the laundry now contains several pairs of fabulous new crazy pants for the kids, and the dirty dishes are the result of creative cooking experiments. i have devoured a few great books (both the for-fun kind and the brain-stimulating kind) but there are an embarrassing number of unread emails in my inbox.

i generally prefer allowing my intuition to guide me from one task to the next. the only problem is that my intuition is not so good at taking care of business. and after a while, it becomes evident that i need things like friends, and clean underwear, and an unsoiled mug for my coffee. 

so today, i’m getting back on the re[frame] wagon. i’m returning to the world of note cards. however, instead of attacking every piece of unfinished business in my life the way  my dog attacks his breakfast (in an near-violent frenzy), i’m going to take a more measured approach. i have only one goal for the week, and that is cleaning out the bird’s closet. i know there must be clothes to fit this child in there somewhere!

is there any way to be both productive and creative at the same time? or is this particular brand of balance just another part of a mother’s quest for pie-in-the-sky equanimity? i think i’ll just write these questions on note cards and carry them around in my purse.

last saturday morning i took you on a tour of my sewing room.

i have been sewing for almost four years, which is precisely the amount of time that some version of this mess (on the dining room table, at our old house) has been with me. people stroll through and exit with thread wrapped around their ankles. friends’children come over for play dates and lament to their mommies that they “don’t know where to walk in this room.” loose pins and other boobie traps are obscured by mountains of fabric — fabric that it so fabulous that i cannot bear to throw away even the tiniest scrap.

most people couldn’t live like this for four minutes, let alone four years. but for me, four years was just the right amount of time. and then, suddenly, last saturday, i was over it. not the sewing… THE MESS!

i’ve been hard at work. the reframe people should come shoot a commercial at my house. there were days of plotting, pricing, and sketching. there were manic trips to home depot with two children “driving” the orange plastic cart with steering wheels. there was an entire wednesday spent with children under my feet asking things like, “mommy, did you mean to put that hole in the wall?” then there were many hours of sorting, stacking, discarding, and hanging. and now there is this:

BEFORE

AFTER

let’s look at it again, shall we?  

i am pretty sure that everything is out of kid reach, though time will tell. i can always move things around if need be.

and p.s. — isn’t that a cool rug? i hadn’t seen that long-lost bad boy in ages!

hello, and welcome to my home tour. i think i’ll start by giving your a glance at my sewing room:

oh yeah, i keep forgetting that you’ve already seen my kitchen and my office. we’ve passed that point in our relationship where i can blithely lie and change the subject to cover up my shortcomings. let’s just say that while i dream of the above displayed organization, my reality looks more like this:

it’s not that i don’t have an organizational system. i do actually have shelves and scrap bins, and i even returned everything to their places right before i left for the mountains. it’s just that everything lives within reach of the monkey and the bird, who love nothing more than to float around in vast seas of fabric. the up side is that this meticulous project of dumping, gathering, and arranging occupies the kids for hours. 

i am still plugging away at the re[frame] productivity system for creative people  . my “to do”  list still resides in a cute little box of note cards, my files are still in order, and my office hasn’t been a disaster area in quite some time. clearly the sewing room project is next. i’m thinking pegboards (out of the children’s reach) securing scissors, rotary cutters, and the like. i’m thinking colorful displays of bobbins and thread, elevated just beyond the monkey’s grasp. i’m thinking off-the-floor shelving for the fabric and scraps. this is going to be huge, people.

if any of you crafty types have any tips, pictures, or inspiration to share, bring it on.

the result is going to be sew fantastic.

the nice orderly fabric picture was borrowed from thread on 6th street in tuscumbia, AL.

following the daily email directives of the re[frame] productivity system for creative people  has helped me to organize and prioritize what was once a rain cloud of to-do’s that floated above me, casting down ominous threats.

now, the cloud is gone, and in place of it, i have this cute little box and this set of stacking shelves. no more hail storms of balls inadvertently dropped.

but this life of organization comes with a price. i used to be able to ignore the cloud for stretches of blissfully ignorant time. i am now acutely aware of what needs to be done. now that i’m committed to a daily study of the radar, i miss setting out for a picnic without the slightest notion of torrential downpour…

…but not enough to turn back.

the problem is, i’ve passed the halfway marker now, and my re[frame] emails have moved beyond the kind of concrete directives that have inspired me to organize corners of my house, clean out my email in boxes, and develop a bizarre obsession with note cards. i am now encouraged to brainstorm about what version of myself i would most like to be, what kinds of things act as barriers in this process, and what life changes i could make to facilitate a more centered way of being.

these second-tier questions are precisely the kinds of questions i LOVE! i ask them repeatedly in my work as a minister. it is not that i am negating their importance. it’s just that i’m still organizing corners of my house, cleaning out my email in boxes, and clinging tightly to my note cards. i cannot possibly think about organizing my vision of the future until i organize this and other proverbial visions of my present life:

but as you can see, i AM making progress.

so, i’m taking a week or so off from new challenges and questions so that i can keep up the foundational work. and because organizing my “to do’s” has taught me that i simply have too much to do, i think i need to pare down a bit before i can enter the next phase. i’ve got to dead head the rose bushes so other blooms can grow.

oh, that reminds me. i’ve got to literally dead head those rose bushes. excuse me while i jot that down on a note card…

remember when i showed you this?

and this?

and do you remember when i blathered on about getting organized? my husband was excited when i revealed my plans to try out the reframe productivity system for creative people. however, many of you expressed your disappointment at my efforts to get my life in order. it seems that you LIKE seeing my disheveled mess of a life memorialized in photos and posted on the internet. furthermore, some of you have even confessed that these photos help you to feel better about yourselves. to this i say: a) you’re welcome, and b) don’t worry. there will always be plenty of chaos to go around.

today is day 16 of the program, and i am actually having fun with the process. my new file trays (labeled “do,” “file,” “delegate,” and “ideas”) assure that no stray papers ever hit my desk. my filing system is up to date for the first time since we moved into our current home (one year and eight months ago), and i now organize everything i need to do in this cute little vintage note card box:

now, instead of doing tasks according to when they pop into my head, i jot these little jobs down on cards and file them under the day on which i aim to do them. see?

yesterday, i began tackling my email inbox. if you are reading this, and you are wondering why i have not responded to the email you sent me in 75 B.C.E., it’s because re[frame] had not yet been invented back then. duh!

so now my office looks like this. it’s not perfect, and it never will be, but it’s definitely better:

and for those of you with appetites for other people’s slovenliness that cannot be satiated with the tangle of cords above, i submit to you my vanity:

this is where i like to store the occasional wine goblet and the toiletry bag i forgot to unpack after a trip to atlanta last october.

see, i told you that there will always be plenty of chaos to go around.

remember this picture?

yes, this is my office. she looks like this all the time, not just when she wakes up in the morning. i guess i could soften this image with explanations about how my little bird builds nests around himself on the floor of this space with the contents of my purse, or how this room is right by the back door and has become a popular place to shed clothes, packages, et cetera upon entering the house. but it’s too late. you have already seen my kitchen.

you know how i roll.

for the next sixty days, i am putting myself through the re[frame] program, a “productivity system that is built specifically for creative people.”  two of my friends have employed this system and are now downright evangelical about it, so i went to the website last thursday and paid the sign-up fee of $42. later that day, i purchased the required school supplies (note cards, labels, and among other things, a shredder!). now the creators of re[frame], heather jassy and jodi carter, send me daily emails that tell me to sort the stuff on my desk into piles labeled “DO, FILE, IDEAS, and DELEGATE,” for example.

so far, i’m having fun, and i no longer have the urge to don a hazmat suit upon entering my office. i’m also starting to see things differently. i enter my closet and think about how exciting it would be to receive an email telling me to box up all the maternity clothes. last night, as i was getting a fork from our toothpick-infested silverware drawer (the monkey is to thank for that one), i fantasized about a directive in my in-box reading, “and now it’s time to liberate your forks, knives, and spoons from toothpick explosion debris.”

in case heather and jodi don’t cover these types of things in re[frame], i went ahead and cleaned the drawer. already, i feel better.

look out, world. there is no telling what’s going to happen with all of this creativity once it isn’t crumpled under a pile of maternity clothes, toothpicks, and un-filed papers. maybe i’ll find the cure for the common cold! at this point, i’d settle for being able to find my keys.