I am fighting a personal battle, and I have enlisted my family as frontline fighters.  I am waging a war against clutter.  In our conspicuous consumptive culture, this conflict is necessary.  Every single day handfuls of items enter our home.  Most come with little recognition to their arrival, making their taking up of residence all the more insidious.  Clutter is a pest.  It is a menace to clear thinking.  It breeds bad attitudes and lazy reactions.  Stuff piles up because it pretends to not deserve our attention.  A plop here, a drawer stuff there, all seemingly innocent. 

I refuse to be seduced by the sweet thought of “having it for later” and “but I might just need it tomorrow”.  These thoughts tempt, yet giving in to them steals the true joy that comes from having only what you need and using what you have.

All four of us fought hard all weekend.  We cleaned every closet and all the bedroom drawers.  Even the garage got a good sweeping out.  Just like exercise, a good hard cleaning feels terrible at first, but soon the endorphins are released.  My 15 year old wrote, “I feel very accomplished” on her Facebook page.  (She confused the connotation, but I was still proud.)  My 11 year old smiled ear to ear when she explained in exorbitant detail the reason for the order of her shirts and pants.  This morning my husband offered, without a prompt, how much easier it was to think when everything was in its place. 

I would say we won this scrimmage, hands down.  For now at least.  Until one day in only perhaps a few short months, we turn around and notice we have been outflanked again by the creep of mail, sloppily filed paperwork and worn out clothing.