by: Susan Lamonica
Chaos has its own language. The common thread in the “language of chaos” is rooted in procrastination and seldom the real truth. The procrastination language says, I can’t do that – it’s too hot, too cold, too late, too early, too dark, will take too long, is too messy, too complicated. I am not wearing the right clothes, it’s not the right time….I am too tired, when I am calmer about things. My favorite: I should wait until I feel more motivated; tomorrow will be better.
When chaos speaks to me like this it seems perfectly logical and rational. Yet these words are so obviously deceptions and lies. Which begs the larger question: Why am I so willing to accept these deceptions and lies without challenging them?
I realized I have a bizarre way of taking five minutes of cleaning a window and projecting it into future fear. WHAT IF I actually cleaned the window. Then decluttered, Then tackled all my problems. Solved them. Ate better? Exercised? Painted the house? Looked presentable? Then…what? THINGS will be expected of me. Maybe I have to go back to school, deal with major relationship problems, get a better job, win the Nobel prize? I don’t know how to win the Nobel prize and will probably fail at every dream, anyway. And it’s too stressful to even think about it because I don’t have any answers and all of a sudden….I can’t possibly clean that window. Because cleaning that window for five minutes is now a “risk” that propels me so far forward with such significant responsibilities. A Pandora’s Box, that window!! And so I keep the clutter and nod my head in perfect agreement to the chaotic logic that says “I had better wait”. Such relief – “do it later” – it really does make sense!!
I am learning not to be quite so fooled by the chaotic logic. As that old saying goes, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar – and cleaning a window is just cleaning a window. WHAT am I doing WAY OUT THERE in the future when I just need to be right here cleaning a window? It doesn’t commit me to cleaning the whole house, enroll me in school, or put me on track for a Nobel prize. It just says, I love myself enough to have a clean window.
When the timer goes off and I lay the purple rag to rest, I don’t really need to know any more about the future than I did before I began. I make things so complicated. One of the greatest gifts of Flylady is to be present; clean the window, know the future is safe in the God Breeze.