Desk Drawer Memories

Brass keys that once opened the locks of long forgotten doors. One loose staple that strayed from its little blue box. Polished multicoloured rocks. Bits of paper ~ their purpose? A beautiful green lacquered stamp holder with delicate red flowers. Its purpose? For rolls of stamps not used for many years, it is a treasured gift. File folder labels ~ red, green, blue and yellow. A pastel turquoise tiny stapler laying on its side beside a quite stern looking brown staple remover. And a single pad of sticky notes with a nail clipper and file on top. All of this tossed and jumbled in one desk drawer. As I pulled everything out leaving an empty, dusty side drawer, Harry James Big Band was playing. The vocalist, I think it may have been Bing Crosby, sang the words ‘the album of my memory’. Well, a cluttered desk drawer is not exactly as ordered as an album, yet is still full of memories. Some of the memories, like the keys, are lost in the fog of too many moves. Why do we keep keys?!

With each drawer that I open, I find tiny slivers of memories. It may be a memory of what my intention was, like keeping my file drawers in order. Or it may be a precious gift. Then again, it may be purely utilitarian, like my stapler and staples. Whatever their original purpose or use, they wedge into the tiniest of corners and cracks, much like memories of how to peel apples or knead dough. Marie Kondo, the Japanese organizing consultant, is known to say something like, if it doesn’t bring you joy, dispose of it. I quite agree. Going through this one small drawer, was rather bitter-sweet. A saying of my own is to find the soul within the task. So, clearing and organizing this small bit of clutter, will use these principles. Memories will always stay ~ well almost always. Re-purposing those precious items unhappily relegated to messy clutter, may be a solution. The scary potential of this joy and soul finding belongs to tomorrow’s project.

“Every time I open the drawers it’s a trip down Memory 

Lane, which if you don’t turn off at the right exit, merges 

straight into the Masochistic Nostalgia Highway.”

~ Sloane Crosley, writer