Tax time a challenge to meaning of work space
clutter
I admit it: I'm a pack rat.
I am not, however, the hoarding, obsessive-compulsive,
can't-throw-anything-away person featured in some reality shows.
I am more like the well-intended person who makes stacks of
to-do's that never quite get done -- and then multiply.
And, I do have a hard time discarding things that have
sentimental value -- probably taking up too much space in my life.
In general, though, I know where things are -- I just couldn't
tell someone else exactly where to find them. Locating an errant
piece of paper is almost a spiritual experience, where I close my
eyes and envision the paper, then recreate the setting where I last
saw it.
I've tried to motivate myself with fancy labelers, designer
folders, and brightly-colored briefcase files. Yet the piles remain
-- a bit more festive and easier to spot -- but still there, mocking
me.
Beautified clutter.
I've tried in-boxes, out-boxes, action, urgent and pending
folders, all with the same result: more piles.
Tax time challenges me each spring, sending me into the jungle of
my paperwork in search of all the records that "must be around here
somewhere."
Through the years, I've made folders for each tax category in
hopes to encourage a more systematic year-round collection of data.
This year, exasperated with the number of empty file folders, I
pulled out the entire file drawer and discovered I had eight
different tax files -- six were duplicates.
Eventually, I tracked down all the necessary documents and
submitted them with time to spare, as usual.
However, the time-consuming process needled me.
Was there a way to avoid this yearly stress? Would a clean desk
help?
As I began to de-clutter my workspace, I stumbled on a few clever
quotes I must have saved to justify my weakness.
"Creativity often resides in clutter."
"The mark of a genius is a messy desk."
I smiled at the affirmations as I dug further into the pile
beside my keyboard and discovered a few returned Christmas card
envelopes awaiting updated addresses.
I Googled one lost friend's workplace and found his new address
and his Web site, complete with photos, updates and a schedule of
lecture podcasts.
I marked my calendar and three days later saw my friend speak; I
hadn't seen him for 30 years. He responded to my handwritten note
with one of his own -- a true treasure in this era of e-mail, wall
posts and Tweets.
Thank goodness I hadn't "filed" that envelope; I may never have found it. Then
one more quote came to mind.
"An orderly desk reflects an orderly mind."
Did I want an orderly mind? Is a rote life, void of
spontaneity-sparked insight and tangential escapades, right for me?
Would an empty desk result in an empty mind?
Suddenly my stacks of clutter gained a new purpose and respect.
My steadfast piles were not albatrosses to bear -- they were
mountains of inspiration to be mined.
Precious discoveries await.
At least until next year's tax season.

