Praise of small triumphs

If spring cleaning seems daunting, why not focus on tasks that are much less ambitious but just as satisfying?

Spring is coming, and with it, a half-boring, half-invigorating mandate to spring clean – to clean one space at a time physical and psychological. Because I am constantly looking for reasons to get rid of old things, old ways of thinking and being that have become obsolete, I am drawn to spring cleaning as an annual rite.

< p class="css-at9mc1 evys1bk0">But because I also constantly face a pesky feeling of dread when facing obligations of any size, I also find the concept of spring cleaning overly ambitious and intimidating. On days when routine tasks like going to the post office or sorting laundry are punishments, the plan of vacuum-sealing sweaters in moth-proof storage bags seems impractical.

A friend told me that she prepared for a neighborhood yard sale twice a year and had started decluttering in preparation for the event. I felt a mix of excitement (it's that time of year again!) and panic (it's that time of year and, once again, I waited too long to call the an accountant !). She then mentioned how accomplished she felt after sewing a button on a shirt to prepare it for sale.

I started thinking about those little things that we put off until later, the little tasks. it's not necessarily strenuous, but for whatever reason – they're not part of our regular routines, we don't need to do them to function – we procrastinate on completing them. When we actually do them, the feeling of relief we feel is almost transcendent.

Take the example of sewing a button on a shirt. Yes, the jersey has been out of service for four years, but that's okay, you've rationalized, you have other jerseys and ever more urgent things to do. But when you sit down and sew that stupid button, you feel an inordinate sense of accomplishment, totally out of proportion to the effort and time spent. Look at your work! And now you have another shirt!

I started making a list of these tasks, these little things that are constantly pushed aside and take up space at the bottom of the mind and running towards -making a list. Shiny shoes. Repotting plants. Sharpen the knives. Have the car washed. I recently made chicken stock from leftovers that had been sitting in the freezer for months. I felt a sense of accomplishment that I can only compare to what someone might feel after lifting a car off a trapped child.

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I felt a sense of accomplishment that I can only compare to what someone might feel after lifting a car off a trapped child.

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We are having trouble retrieving the article content.

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Praise of small triumphs

If spring cleaning seems daunting, why not focus on tasks that are much less ambitious but just as satisfying?

Spring is coming, and with it, a half-boring, half-invigorating mandate to spring clean – to clean one space at a time physical and psychological. Because I am constantly looking for reasons to get rid of old things, old ways of thinking and being that have become obsolete, I am drawn to spring cleaning as an annual rite.

< p class="css-at9mc1 evys1bk0">But because I also constantly face a pesky feeling of dread when facing obligations of any size, I also find the concept of spring cleaning overly ambitious and intimidating. On days when routine tasks like going to the post office or sorting laundry are punishments, the plan of vacuum-sealing sweaters in moth-proof storage bags seems impractical.

A friend told me that she prepared for a neighborhood yard sale twice a year and had started decluttering in preparation for the event. I felt a mix of excitement (it's that time of year again!) and panic (it's that time of year and, once again, I waited too long to call the an accountant !). She then mentioned how accomplished she felt after sewing a button on a shirt to prepare it for sale.

I started thinking about those little things that we put off until later, the little tasks. it's not necessarily strenuous, but for whatever reason – they're not part of our regular routines, we don't need to do them to function – we procrastinate on completing them. When we actually do them, the feeling of relief we feel is almost transcendent.

Take the example of sewing a button on a shirt. Yes, the jersey has been out of service for four years, but that's okay, you've rationalized, you have other jerseys and ever more urgent things to do. But when you sit down and sew that stupid button, you feel an inordinate sense of accomplishment, totally out of proportion to the effort and time spent. Look at your work! And now you have another shirt!

I started making a list of these tasks, these little things that are constantly pushed aside and take up space at the bottom of the mind and running towards -making a list. Shiny shoes. Repotting plants. Sharpen the knives. Have the car washed. I recently made chicken stock from leftovers that had been sitting in the freezer for months. I felt a sense of accomplishment that I can only compare to what someone might feel after lifting a car off a trapped child.

We We are having trouble retrieving the article content.

We are having trouble retrieving the article content.

We are having trouble retrieving the article content.

We are having trouble retrieving the article content.

I felt a sense of accomplishment that I can only compare to what someone might feel after lifting a car off a trapped child.

We are having trouble retrieving the article content.

We are having trouble retrieving the article content.

We are having trouble retrieving the article content. p>

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Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode, please exit and log in to your Times account, or subscribe to the entire Times.

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