Today, I started clearing up my desk, and it turned out to be an incredibly rewarding experience.
My initial goal was simple: to tidy up old papers and call notes scattered around—random thoughts or scribbles from colleagues about matters so old they might as well have come with a layer of dust (I’m pretty sure one note mentioned the invention of the wheel.) As I sorted through the clutter, the more papers I shredded, the more a profound sense of liberation washed over me. Some papers, like old task lists and daily checklists, dated back over a year, buried beneath other (more urgent, at least back then) client requests that seemed to demand my attention with the same ferocity as a toddler who’s missed nap time. Now, their contents? Almost irrelevant.
Escalation: From Desk to Decluttering Odyssey
Things were going so well that I decided to upgrade my goal and reorganize the entire desk. You know how it goes—one moment you’re just tidying up, the next you’re contemplating throwing out half your furniture and becoming a minimalist. I even removed two of my extra computer screens. Yes, two. Apparently, there was a time I thought I had the multitasking prowess need of a NASA control room. By ditching the excess screens, I felt a sudden lightness return to my senses, both physically and mentally, like I’d finally deleted all those ‘maybe I should read them later’ browser tabs I’ve been holding onto for months.
Transforming my workspace into a neatly organized sanctuary brought more than just physical order. It evoked memories of past projects, some I hadn’t thought of in ages. As I handled each piece of paper, I realized how many of those “urgent” tasks had been buried in the sands of time—and under a mountain of old meeting notes. While some tasks remained relevant, they seemed to shrink in importance as I cleared away the clutter. Maybe tidying really is some kind of magic, like Marie Kondo promised.
And, of course, I had some music on. What’s decluttering without a soundtrack? As I was shredding, my thoughts wandered between profound reflections and the mild humour that I might accidentally shred something important.
The Shredder’s Philosophy
A curious idea struck me midway through: what if I make this decluttering process a habit? Write my thoughts on paper, let them sit for a day or two on my desk, then revisit them with fresh eyes. If they’re still relevant, I’ll transfer them to my computer. If not, into the shredder they go—without mercy. It’s a bit like taking your ideas on a test drive before committing. Honestly, some of those paper thoughts were like half-baked cookies: great in theory, but not exactly ready to serve.
So, what lessons can I draw from all this? Is there a connection between tidying up a desk and fostering a clear path forward? Turns out, cleaning up the desk helps clean up the mind too—who knew? This experience showed me, in the simplest way, the importance of creating a harmonious environment where clarity and simplicity pave the way for a more focused, purpose-driven day. (And, let’s be honest, I can immediately find a working pen when I need one.)
As I sorted through the mess, I felt like I was starring in some sort of “Taoist Home Improvement” show. The journey of decluttering aligns perfectly with Taoist principles of simplicity, balance, and going with the flow. Taoism teaches us to reduce excess, but it turns out shredding papers can be equally therapeutic—especially when you’re shredding all the to-do lists you had completed and now forgotten existed. A sense of double achievement!
But there’s another layer. As a Contemplationist, I realize it’s not just about removing the physical clutter; it’s about acknowledging it. “Oh, hello, pile of old documents. You’re no longer relevant to me, have a nice journey and thank you!” It’s about mastering the art of letting go while also appreciating the weird little attachments we form to things we no longer need. And let’s not forget the sheer joy of shredding—it’s like feeding tiny bits of your stress to a hungry little machine that never judges you for the state of your desk. Shredding by hand only the most important papers also added to the joy!
Clear Desk, Clear Mind, Clear Sailing
By the end of this tidying spree, I felt like a weight had been lifted, and not just from the piles of paper I’d obliterated. This deeper state fosters a purpose-driven mindset, ensuring that the next piece of paper to grace my desk will have to meet a much higher standard. No more freeloading documents lounging around just because they can.
Taoism teaches us to let go and flow with life, while Contemplationism encourages us to actively curate our inner world, making sure it’s robust and clear. Today, after cutting through the clutter I felt my resilience, adaptability, and the ability to laugh at myself boosted, particularly when I noticed I had been holding onto a Post-it note with a doodle of a cat eating and mushroom for three years. If only I could recall during what call that was drawn!
So now, my tidy workspace stands as a visual representation of something bigger: the metaphorical stream of my thoughts flowing freely, unburdened by unnecessary clutter—or unnecessary screens. The future: clear sailing from here! And that’s the surprising power of a clear desk—a clear mind. What started as a simple declutter turned into a deeper reflection on how our space shapes our focus. It’s not just about tossing papers; it’s about letting go of mental clutter and making room for clarity.
