The natural progression of organisation and work ethic, for me, seems to follow the relative level of dishevelment of my immediate surroundings. This holds true for me both at work and at home, and it sometimes amazes me at the effect it has on my mood.
If I walk in the door at home and the house greets me with a general state of cleanliness, that right there is a catalyst for a relaxed and easy-going evening. And one that's much more productive than if I were greeted with scattered laundry, a messy kitchen, dirty floors and the like. It's funny; and not in a 'ha ha' kind of way. I can almost feel the physical deterioration of whatever ebullience I may have had.
Similarly at work, if I allow my office to embrace a more entropic state than is usually my wont, I find myself struggling to prioritize, feeling overwhelmed when confronted with unexpected tasks and just generally frustrated with an almost total lack of prioritization and direction.
So what is it, then, that prevents me from maintaining that organized state wherein I can operate from a base of confidence, secure in the knowledge that I have my priorities licked and am facing in the direction that I know I want to march, fully capable of handling any number and manner of unexpected requests or requirements? I'd best not say general apathy, since that would indicate a certain disinterest in the status of my home; and that is certainly not the case.
Is it the expedient fact that it's far simpler to allow entropy to wash over elements of my life like sand on a beach? What if I build a really cool sand castle and want to protect it? Perhaps I can liken my life to the country of Holland: I have to keep building and maintaining a protective dyke system so that the relentless pounding of the chaotic waves are kept at bay and don't wash away the carefully groomed fields where my tulips grow.
Vigilance shall be my watch-word. "Meditate on this, I shall."
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