Divided Organizers For Corralling Small Parts

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Children, in all their infinite wisdom, seem to know that things work best when divisions are obvious. If you buy a plate for a small human, it features at least three distinct sections, lest various components of a meal join and meld together.

I can handle the carrots and the apple slices and the taco, but only if I can clearly recognize each for its own. But should the peas become jumbled with the scrambled eggs, I won’t know what’s what, I’ll be overwhelmed by the culinary mess you’ve presented me, and I’ll positively lose my shit, and possibly stage a hunger protest, the children decry.

Yes, keeping small components contained and separated is clever, then, in the kitchen, and equally so in the rest of the house. 

In fact, it is the smallest items’ being out of place, and without a proper place, that undermines the whole of the operation. It’s the rogue spools of thread rolling around in a drawer that causes one to get accustomed to living in a state of clutter. Or the batteries, haphazardly strewn in any and every available drawer that does it. Or the children’s beads. The hardware store’s worth of screws and nails. The first aid essentials.

Rounding like things up and storing them together in the same place is major milestone in the journey to Live Simply. But for the Master’s degree, opt for a divided container that allows for boundaries between the related small stuff.

Less digging through, less routing around for, less food related tantrums, more better. 

Compartmentalized containers for containing small parts and pieces.

 

1. Parts organizer

2. Deluxe super satchel

3. Storage satchel with 20 removable dividers

4. Stack-on 13 compartment organizer

5. 6 compartment box

6. Clear hobby case

20 Assertive & Compassionate Alternatives To Saying Flat Out ‘No’

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

You know by now that saying ‘no’ isn’t mean or rude or even inconsiderate, it’s prudent, at the very least, and potentially essential. Still, if you’re like most people, actually saying ‘no’ is epically scary and utterly confounding.

Stop hyperventilating about how to go about it and start embracing your ability to decline offers/questions/invitations/requests of all kinds like the no-ninja that you can and will be. Here’s a list of 20 alternatives to saying flat out ‘no’ to get your Nope-engines running:

20 Assertive & Compassionate Alternatives To Saying Flat Out 'No'

Image credit: Sugar Paper

 

1. I’d prefer not to.

2. I’m unavailable.

3. No thank you.

4. I’m currently choosing to prioritize other things.

5. I had/have a different vision.

6. Unfortunately, I can’t say yes, because I fear if I took on another commitment, my ability to show up for all of my responsibilities might suffer.

7. I’m all set with that (a Traurig favorite!)

8. I’m going to pass.

9. This time I need to decline.

10. I don’t think I’m the right person for ______________________ right now.

11. I need to think about it.

12. I’ve made a promise to myself not to take on any more _______________________ until I ________________________________.

13. I’m unable to say yes, but have you considered ___________________________? 

14. I used to make time for things like this, but I now need to focus my attention on my true priority which is ____________________________.

15. I’m respectfully/politely/bravely/lovingly saying no to _____________________________. Here is what I am able to offer: __________________________. 

16. I know it’s not what you intended, but saying yes to you would distract me from what I really need to attend to currently. 

17. Please don’t feel the need to _________________ on my account. 

18. I’m intrigued/curious/open, but/and I need more information before I’m able to say yes.

19. As much as I want to say yes, I’m working on saying no to more things in order to __________________.

20. I want to say yes, but I need to say no.

 

Pick one and practice using it. Make it your catchphrase. Make it so that saying it feels as effortless as saying yes would. Remember: saying no to many things is required in order to enable those pursuits you’re saying yes to.

And P.S. You don’t need to explain yourself

 

Monday’s Meditation: On Dabbling Vs. Focus

Monday, April 24, 2017

Dabbling has become the thing to do.

Around me, people are flitting from this to that, seemingly never content to stay still for long. Always, there is the allure of something newer, better, shinier, and full of the potential to revolutionize their lives.

It is as if the attention spans that began waning thanks to the internet has jumped off of the screen and morphed into real life.

People alight onto one expert’s guidance and then, before they’ve even sufficiently absorbed the advice being given, they’re on to the next. Dr. Andrew Weil to Dr. Oz to Goop to a New York Times reporter–

They flit from interest to interest; with each one they excite in having a reason to purchase all the necessary supplies, but rarely do they truly invest their spirits.

They jump from exercise to exercise, sampling various fitness methods without ever sticking to one long enough to see progress.

Yes, dabbling is the thing to do, it seems.

Only, dabbling is quite like dining on a perpetual tasting menu. A flight of life. Of fashion. Of fitness. Of health. Of design. Of parenting. A smorgasbord of one-bite samples that never could nor does leave one feeling full.

No matter how palatable or intriguing each small taste may be, do you ever end up feeling satiated? Do you ever even know how much you’ve had to eat? Can you ever see the cumulative, long-term result of pursuing mastery in a very select number of areas? Do you ever feel more focused, have more clarity, and feel more at peace? Or is your brain merely more cluttered with information that intersects at some points and directly conflicts in others, your mind an overloaded, empty stomach rumbling with two hundred single-bites.

There is no denying that dabbling may, on the surface, seem shinier than focus, consistency, and simplicity. It may bring more company, too; there is never a shortage of people who are content to dabble relentlessly with you.

But after you have sampled from the majestic menu from which we all order, after you have taken peckish bite after peckish bite, too afraid to truly indulge, too reluctant to commit for fear of what delicacy may be served next, and realized you are still starving, then you see: focus, not scattered concentration, is sexy. Consistency, not fickleness, is monumental. Clarity, not an infinite stream of information, is liberating.

The moment you accept that you never can or will sample every available option, and that in your unrequited search for “it,” you can waste a lifetime having made no trackable gains, you are free to choose resolutely: One appetizer, one main course, one dessert. No regrets.