Making Messes

I am not a hoarder.

I’m not even close. Those stacks of newspapers and garbage you see on TV? Never in a million years. My room stays clean. All right, all right, I’m not a neat freak, either. Sometimes I miss the cobwebs forming in the ceiling corners. It could be worse.

And it occurs to me that that’s not just because I’m tidy. It’s also because the mess is manageable.

I don’t have a lot of stuff.

The stuff I do have can be divided into three categories: clothes, books, and various odds and ends. Whoops, forgot video games and digital devices. I’ve got a few of those too.

And I’m not really attached to any of it.

The clothes are there to be worn. Duh. The books are for reading, the games to be played. Many of those, gifts and so on, come with sentimental value. That’s normal. I just got a few more over the weekend.

But I have little problem getting rid of old clothes. If I don’t play the games, I sell them. Heck, the only reason I’m keeping my Wheel of Time collection is that I’m sure someday I’ll want to read them all over again.

Things are meant to be used.

But it’s not always that simple. I was reading an article the other day by a self-confessed hoarder. He talked about buying the same books more than once, after losing earlier copies in the piles of junk he’d amassed. He’d forgotten whether he owned them or not – and he needed to be someone who would own those books. While being interviewed about his condition, he blurted out, “What would I be without it all?”

In this case, at least, hoarding was tied to a person’s identity. The lines between who he was and what he owned were blurred. This man needed so much stuff because he was his stuff.

Kind of sad, really.

That’s an extreme example of what I’m talking about today. Not materialism run rampant, though you could make that case too.

No – today I’m talking about self-image.

How do you see yourself?

Physically, emotionally, psychologically. Identity is a complex subject – now that’s an understatement – so let’s stick to perception. What do you see when you look at yourself? And more importantly, do you like what you see?

Everything you see?

Honestly.

If your answer is, Yes! I’m awesome! I couldn’t be more awesome if I tried! Then great, good for you. No need to finish reading this. Go away. Shoo. Be awesome somewhere else.

But I’m guessing that deep down, not a lot of people are going to say that.

A few days ago, there was an instance when I behaved in a way I regret. (I’ll spare you the details.) Logically, I know there were reasons behind how I acted. Mitigating factors. It wasn’t that bad, all things considered. But still.

The next day I hated myself.

I didn’t want to think that I could act that way. I still don’t.

We all have flaws, imperfections. It’s the human condition. There are so many we get hung up on. Maybe you have a short temper, a cynical mind, a passive personality, an addiction. Maybe you take things too personally. Maybe you jump to conclusions.

Even admitting them is difficult. We jump through all sorts of hoops to justify our actions. No one wants to face their flaws.

But we have to.

Despair comes from thinking that nothing will ever change – but we can change.

Here’s the thing about mistakes. The only way to stop making them, is to make them. Every failure is a lesson in disguise. This is how we learn, and grow.

Sucks, doesn’t it.

That guy from the example? He was right. All the junk we carry around, the screw-ups, issues and insecurities – they are a part of us.

But not the only part.

We are more than our mistakes.

So don’t beat yourself up when you make one. Learn from it, and move on. You’ll be a better person for making it.

Heck, you’re a better person now.

You have good parts too, don’t you?

Just a reminder. You never know who’s going to need it.