Taking Stock: Ordered Chaos?

By Terrie Leigh Relf

Taking stock.  Taking stock.  Oh do I ever need to take stock. 

I live in a small, one-bedroom cottage with my eight-year-old daughter, who, like me, is a sentimental pack rat.

We also like to make things. Lots of different things, each with their own separate quadrant of supplies. I could fill a garage with the stuff in my home. Just imagine how over-stuffed my mind is.

No doubt yours is overflowing as well.

I see that as a positive, though.

You’re probably wondering how I can ever get anything done, or perhaps you’re lighting candles or otherwise making offerings to your own inner domestic Goddess just in case She’s been feeling neglected. Ok, you may even be considering the possibility that I must have made the Goddess angry, and that like Sisyphus, I’m destined to push that rock called “housework” and/or “home office space maintenance” up the hill until the dawn of a new era.

There’s also a possibility, however remote, that I’m a source of amusement for the Powers That Be. Who wouldn’t have a good laugh once they’d been inside my habitat?  For those of you who have crossed the dragon-filled moat, journeyed through the labyrinthian corridors to my realm, know what I’m talking about. I hear exclamations like: “OHMAGAWD! How can you stand it?!” Or, I have an aunt who’s a writer. She lives like this…” Or one of my personal favorites:  “what sort of example are you setting for your daughter?”

I’d like to think I’m setting an excellent example. If anything, my daughter and I work the same way. Could it be that she influenced me? I her? Or perhaps we just cohabitate well in the wild.

Being a creative person is risky business—and it’s not just the outer terrain of the writer; it’s the inner terrain as well.

What risk is that?

The discovery, that despite social conditioning to the contrary, there is order in chaos in the same way that there is chaos in order.

One of my close friends is a Feng Shui consultant. I had the best of intentions…really.  Where did all this stuff come from? I need to focus on magnetizing money rather than stuff…

I’m here to tell you—at least from my perspective—that each one of these “piles” is a treasure trove burgeoning with ideas for new poems or stories or memoirs. Hey, even articles on how to remove clutter from my habitat, and as it often follows, from my mind.  Just as I am influenced by my environment, so, too, my environment is influenced by me. 

I often remind myself that I create my universe. I think I’m co-existing in several at the moment.

What are you creating? What is it that you want to create?

Here are a few ideas…

1. Photos. Do you have boxes of them like I do? Well, they can be sorted and catalogued. Or, you could make framed collages--with text. First of all, spread a few piles all over the dining room table, kitchen counter, or bedroom rug. Wallow in them… Toss out the duplicates and the shots you don’t like—but pay particular attention to those unidentifiable images. They are oh-so-intriguing, and may inspire you to ask the proverbial, “what if?” questions. Make collages with then, too.

2. Another idea to work with photos is to pull out significant ones and write about them. Perhaps it’s a family scene at last year’s holiday season. Or maybe it’s of your garden in full-bloom. An urban setting? A quirky “candid-camera” shot of friends at a local pub? You could pull together a series of these for an exhibit—even if that exhibit never leaves a friend or family’s house.

3. Those bags of fabric, some already cut out for quilts? Start sewing them together.  Add text. Create a story with fabric. Haven’t you wanted to get started on those hand-made books of poetry? You could also make quilted or appliquéd book covers.

4. Donation bags are good. I actually have a donation box sitting on my front porch.  As I attempt to work through various piles (and oh yes, the closets), I put in things we’ve outgrown, stuff we don’t use, or yes, don’t need. This relates to writing files as well. While I am a definite proponent of saving notes, character studies, and those stories-in-process for an undefined future, sometimes that future is the present reality of the circular file, the shredder, or the fire.

5. Speaking of fire…A ritual that I often perform at this time of year in particular, is to write down what I want to let go of on a piece of paper, then give it to the flame. I also write down what I want to create in my life. My daughter loves this ritual, which we did together for the first time last year. Afterwards, we wrote in our respective journals for awhile. It was a wonderful mother-daughter bonding experience, and an excellent way to teach kids the power of journaling.

6. Then there’s the list poem—or the list story.  Look around where you’re sitting right now. Make a list of what you see, hear, taste, touch, feel, think, etc. Each item on that list is organic.

7. Remember to gather and share with like—and especially with divergent--minded individuals. It keeps life interesting.

8. Remember to nurture yourself with time alone.

9. I have this thing for odd-numbered lists, so this is where you can add in your own thoughts and ideas!

Terrie Leigh Relf invokes chaos on a daily basis while living and working in San Diego.  She is available for writing coaching and other rhetorical feats at a reasonable rate. You may contact her via email at:  tlrelf@cox.net.