I have been working diligently, over time, on transforming a large section of my garage into a creativity studio. I hit it here and there, on weekends, or between other chores and tasks, and some days I really see a difference. On other days, not so much.
One thing that has remained virtually untouched and unchanged, however, is the little bit of space I call “The Persistent Corner.” Now and again, I pull open a flap to a box and peek in to see the contents, and then, because I haven’t the foggiest idea what to do with it, I close the flap and go somewhere else to work.
It’s the subconscious of my studio’s soul. It’s the blackness, the crowded emptiness I don’t want to have to look at, sift through, or deal with, to get to the place where I’m trying to go.
It is, very nearly, the last patch of unknown out there, blocking me from moving into the better stuff: organizing, repairing, and painting it with fresh colors and bright energy.
I realized today that I don’t have to wait until I’m ready to face the whole monster.
On tv shows advertising DIY projects, or weight-loss programs, or workouts, or other overwhelming goals, they always make it look so easy, don’t they? From being a smashed-out shell of a kitchen makeover to polished, matching cupboards and sparkling counters in 30 seconds. A blink of an eye. Practically effortless.
My monsters don’t usually conquer themselves like that. Especially not my “Persistent Corner”:
But, as I realized, I don’t need to face the whole thing at once. As long as I keep at it, little by little, each step is progress. Today, I decided I would get rid of the cardboard boxes on the floor, at least.
And I did!
That was it. Three little boxes, ready for recycling.
I also put away the opened umbrella, swept the webs and leaves outside, and pushed together what was left to clear more floor space.
And that was enough for today.
Not a dramatic, 30-second version of a makeover, by any means. But that corner got a lesson in just who’s the boss around here.
I’ll take it.