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The art of organization

Deeply embedded in my DNA is an ability that’s both profitable and punishing. I grew up cleaning, wether it was scrubbing dry erase boards alongside my dad when he worked nights as a school custodian, or helping my mom with one of her cleaning businesses. I’ve always loved the result of my hyper-attention to detail, and people often tell me how much it’s transformed their home life.

Once, in Florida, I helped a friend and her partner reorganize their closets. It meant clearing out an ex-wife’s expired medications and clothes left behind and, sorting through the new love’s garments, and organizing mountains of shoes. The clutter had become a sore spot, something they argued about but never had time to fix. When I finished, they both expressed their relief and asked me to do every closet in the home plus two storage units aha. The space felt lighter, and so did they. It actually improved their relationship, giving them room to relax and reconnect being busy business owners themselves.


Now a minimalist, I’ve learned the value of simplicity after years of living with someone whose hoarding tendencies left me with little control over my surroundings. I know firsthand the weight that can be lifted through the art of organization, how transforming a space can bring calm to a chaotic world.

The other side of that gift is the toll it takes. When I’m in that trance state. Scrubbing, sorting, aligning, perfecting, my body needs a full day of rest to recover from the compulsive, repetitive movements. There isn’t a place I’ve lived in that doesn’t demand this ritual of order for me to feel at peace.


Call it what you will, but I know how deeply it affects my relationships, the good and not so good. I never stop seeing, hearing, or sensing the details others might overlook. I can smell stress, dehydration, or the faint trace of mold in a cabinet before it appears. I can see chaos forming before most people even blink. Childhood trauma, it seems, trained me into a kind of superhero. One whose power is both a blessing and a burden.

 
 
 

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