Finding MY Voice


photo credit: morguefile.com

photo credit: morguefile.com

I cannot seem to please people lately. I constantly fall short. The strange thing is that I honestly don’t care. There was a time when I would have pretended to care; a time when I would have made an attempt at chagrin or taken a stab at apologetic. Not anymore.

My newfound breeziness may be a result of something as simple as the maturity that comes with age, but I don’t think so. I’ve been “mature” for a good while now. No. It’s definitely something else.

It could be plain old ennui or my old friend stubbornness, except that these characteristics generally result in feelings that I would never describe as “breezy” and usually lead me down entirely different, less positive, paths — paths with street names like “Screw You! Lane” and “Get Outta My Face! Boulevard”. I won’t lie — there is a certain satisfaction in roads that end in these locations, it’s just not where I find myself at present.

I’m no psychologist, but I think it’s safe to say that I can attribute my current “zeitgeist” to two things. One being the “hovel purge”, the other being writing this blog.

The whole “out with the old and in with the new” attitude that the hovel purge has engendered is incredibly liberating. Sorting, tossing, reorganizing, and, yes, “prettying up”, our living space has been an arduous, expensive, and time-consuming task, but one that has left me incredibly satisfied. I’ve learned that some things are worth holding on to as they are, that a few things can be given new life with something as simple as a can of paint, and that others, regardless of my emotional attachment to them, simply need to be set free.

It hasn’t escaped my notice that those same activities — sorting, tossing, reorganizing, and “prettying up” can be applied to writing, as well as to redecorating. It’s not accidental that my writing has become more substantive since embarking upon my household reorganization project. I have come to the conclusion that some ideas, like side tables, should be let loose. Ridding myself of the detritus, both physical and mental, has been very therapeutic.

My foray into redecorating has resulted in some success — I’m particularly keen on the little vanity bench that I reupholstered. And the “faux window seat”? Awesome. I’ve had some failures — alas, the painted cocktail table will have to go. That’s what life’s about though, isn’t it? Finding what works?

In terms of the writing, I’ve found some things that work. I’m discovering my voice. I’ve crafted some pieces that I am proud to have written and, frankly, stunned that I was able to produce. Discovering my voice has made me brave and strong and confident — braver than I ever dreamed I could be, stronger than I knew I was, more confident than I have ever been.

My decorating sensibilities, my writing style, my approach to inter-personal relationships — they’re not for everybody. They are uniquely me. For the first time in my life, I’m absolutely fine with that.

For anyone who is interested, these posts are all related to the “hovel purge”!:
Alas! We’re Not Those Sort of People!
What Passes For Normal On An Ordinary Saturday
Here’s To Hoping For the Best!
Things That Are Worth Holding On To
Trading One Addiction For Another.
Mother of the Year.
My Husband Is Much Nicer Than His Wife.
What Fang Doesn’t Know: I Was a Pre-School Tracing Prodigy!
My “Relaxing” Weekend Off!
Miss Marge’s One-Armed Vanity Chair Redo

20 thoughts on “Finding MY Voice

  1. Wonderful post! I’ve been flirting with a hovel purge for a couple of years, but just when I get going good on it, something happens and it’s months before I get back to it. The same is true for my works-in-progress. Ultimately, it’s just frustrating. My blog and my photography are my therapies. But I’m right there with you on not caring if I please people or not.

    Like

    • javaj240 says:

      Thank you — what I’ve discovered about hovel purging is that you have to commit to it and do it in small, manageable bites. Rome wasn’t built in a day — and my house isn’t bordering on belonging on hoarders because there are only a few things out of place, LOL — trust me, though, it’s very liberating.

      Pleasing people is overrated.

      Like

  2. ohlidia says:

    Sometimes I try not to care either and say “F… them!” But unfortunately, it’s stronger than me and I let it get to me. I’m getting better at it though…

    Like

    • javaj240 says:

      It comes with age, experience, and finding something that you can sink your teeth into. Also, being from Jersey helps.

      Like

  3. Vanessa says:

    Great, great post. I have so enjoyed reading about your cleaning/purging adventures. You writing is just superb – and always gets me thinking. 🙂

    Like

    • javaj240 says:

      Right now I’m thinking about tackling the hall closet — but it’s raining, so maybe tomorrow (seriously, that’s what I’ll tell my husband, that it was raining AND he will think that excuse makes sense, LOL!).

      Like

  4. shalilah2002 says:

    I guess you found your voice when you stopped trying to please people.

    Like

  5. Ya know- it’s interesting that you have been thinking about this (and have written about it so well). I have long felt that a home that is satisfying (no matter the shape) is a reflection of the homekeeper’s state of being. Really. I enjoy an organized abode, surrounded by only the ‘things’ that make me FEEL good. I do not hang on to everything because I can’t hold on to everything- see what I mean? It works, and I’m happy you’re discovering one of life’s little secrets. You Go Girl!

    Like

    • javaj240 says:

      I’ve got no choice but to keep on going — I’m only about halfway through the purge yet — I’m determined to finish! Every time I organize a space, freshen it up, whatever, I feel so much better. My bedroom is going to present a helluva challenge, but I’m up to it!

      Thank you so much for your words of encouragement!

      Like

  6. conniemcleod says:

    I felt I could have written this, it was that close to where I am in my life. My rule is, if my daughter doesn’t want it (someday) and It’s not out where I can enjoy it, then there’s no need to keep it. And I started blogging last summer because my creative voice was screaming to be heard. Thanks for sharing, keep purging the old and writing for you!

    Like

    • javaj240 says:

      I’m so glad it resonated with you. I love when that happens! I’m only halfway through the purge and determined to keep it up — as for the writing, I don’t know how I could ever give it up.

      Like

  7. The image of the vintage typewriter caught my attention (I learned to type on an a standard Royal typewriter when I was 12), but the thoughts that followed resonated just as much. Wonderful thoughts, well delivered. Bravo and keep up the blogging!

    Like

    • javaj240 says:

      Thank you — I’m so happy that it resonated with you. I wish I could hook up an IBM Selectric as a keyboard — there was something so satisfying about the sound and the touch of that particular keyboard — I miss it terribly!

      Like

  8. Ellen Dolgen says:

    i love the idea of the “hovel purge”! And kudos to you for finding your voice as you cut out the clutter (both physically and metaphorically!)!

    Like

    • javaj240 says:

      It’s been a journey — metaphorically and otherwise! Thanks so much for reading, commenting, and, as always, for your support!

      Like

  9. janieemaus says:

    Good for you. Can you help me declutter my life,

    Like

  10. Awesome post. I’m right there with you. This blogging thing has been therapeutic and quite empowering.

    Like

Tell Me What You Think!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s