(or of sorting, if you will).

But the real triumph is clearing off enough space, seeing the golden oak surface of the antique desk for the first time in ages, having a place where I can lay out new projects, systematically.

With clean space, I finally feel ready

I don’t think I’m a pack rat.

I don’t have issues of “National Geographic” stacked from floor to ceiling.

While my garage is overstuffed, mostly it’s with things I might use, or get to, some day; like those rusted floor lamps that beg to be rewired and refinished.

But if you venture into my office, and you happen to be made of paper, I assure you that you won’t be lonely.

Soon, you’ll be lost, among the thousands of other papers that festoon my roll top desk and computer tables.

I didn’t intend to be this way, to be this cluttered. In fact, for my clients, I’m organized and on time. Everything is in its place and everyone is happy.

Anyway, every year or two, an emergency comes up, and I have to document something. I know the proof is buried in one of the piles that long ago merged into one amorphous mountain of litter. An urgent matter makes me wade into the mess, which is exactly what I’ve been procrastinating about.

And so this task becomes a blessing, not because I will find the errant piece of paper. Yes, that will be a victory, of sorts (or of sorting, if you will).

But the real triumph is clearing off enough space, seeing the golden oak surface of the antique desk for the first time in ages, having a place where I can lay out new projects, systematically.

With clean space, I finally feel ready t

.

But if you venture into my office, and you happen to be made of paper, I assure you that you won’t be lonely.

Soon, you’ll be lost, among the thousands of other papers that festoon my roll top desk and computer tables.

I didn’t intend to be this way, to be this cluttered. In fact, for my clients, I’m organized and on time. Everything is in its place and everyone is happy.

Anyway, every year or two, an emergency comes up, and I have to document something. I know the proof is buried in one of the piles that long ago merged into one amorphous mountain of litter. An urgent matter makes me wade into the mess, which is exactly what I’ve been procrastinating about.

And so this task becomes a blessing, not because I will find the errant piece of paper. Yes, that will be a victory, of sorts (or of sorting, if you will).

But the real triumph is clearing off enough space, seeing the golden oak surface of the antique desk for the first time in ages, having a place where I can lay out new projects, systematically.

With clean space, I finally feel ready

e this cluttered. In fact, for my clients, I’m organized and on time. Everything is in its place and everyone is happy.

Anyway, every year or two, an emergency comes up, and I have to document something. I know the proof is buried in one of the piles that long ago merged into one amorphous mountain of litter. An urgent matter makes me wade into the mess, which is exactly what I’ve been procrastinating about.

And so this task becomes a blessing, not because I will find the errant piece of paper. Yes, that will be a victory, of sorts (or of sorting, if you will).

But the real triumph is clearing off enough space, seeing the golden oak surface of the antique desk for the first time in ages, having a place where I can lay out new projects, systematically.

With clean space, I finally feel ready

ed into one amorphous mountain of litter. An urgent matter makes me wade into the mess, which is exactly what I’ve been procrastinating about.

And so this task becomes a blessing, not because I will find the errant piece of paper. Yes, that will be a victory, of sorts (or of sorting, if you will).

But the real triumph is clearing off enough space, seeing the golden oak surface of the antique desk for the first time in ages, having a place where I can lay out new projects, systematically.

With clean space, I finally feel ready

(or of sorting, if you will).

But the real triumph is clearing off enough space, seeing the golden oak surface of the antique desk for the first time in ages, having a place where I can lay out new projects, systematically.

With clean space, I finally feel ready to tackle other tasks that I’ve been putting off, like phoning organizations for the refunds they owe me for deposits made long ago. Or, calling those once hot prospects that cooled at the time of the last ice age.

It ushers in nothing less than a Zen feeling, this uncluttered space.

I like it.

Who knows what I’ll accomplish if I can maintain it.

All I can say is, if you want to stop procrastinating, work on things that matter, recapture your time, and restore a sense of tranquility and quiet purpose to you life, just try doing one thing:

Clear off enough space!