In keeping with my January life-tweaks (again, I’m not calling them resolutions), I’ve been trying to rid my life of stuff that saps mental energy without my even realizing it (and which, by extension, causes creative blocks that get in the way of my writing and other pursuits). For this week’s Thursday 13 I’ll list the “stuff,” including ideas/patterns of thought and other intangibles, whose days are numbered.

13. Satellite radio.

At the end of December, I cancelled my subscription. This was surprisingly hard to do, as I’m a Sirius stockholder, a family member of an air personality there, and someone who rooted (and continues to root) for this service to find its footing in the market. But given my time spent listening and the diversity of content I listened to, I couldn’t make the math work.

12. Cable.
This one’s not gone yet, but it’s on the way out. I need to figure out a way to keep a reasonably fast and capable internet connection, but I could seriously do without 95 percent of the available channels, and the land line service. The DVR was a real wake-up call… once I’d recorded a few weeks of what I enjoy, I started to see how narrow my chosen viewing really is…and how readily accessible a lot of it already is online.

11. Old magazines.|
They’re great dust magnets. And really, I’m sure the content is compelling, at least in part. But I know I’m just never going to get to more than 20-25 percent of them. So, get ‘em gone.

10. Washing and stacking dishes.
I actually got started on this at the end of last year, but the exodus continues this year. My well-meaning family has made me the de facto recipient of every hand-me-down dish, pot, pan and kitchen accessory they’ve decided THEY don’t need…but my place just isn’t that big. So, aside from “nice” service for four (the largest dinner party this place can probably handle) and the basics for the week’s cooking and eating, the rest is getting Freecycled. If it can’t fit in my nifty counter-top dishwasher alongside every other dish I use regularly, adios.

9. Old CDs.
I haven’t quite decided what to do with a lot of these yet (suggestions welcome), since many are missing jewel cases and their condition varies – but the stuff I can see myself ever listening to again has already been digitized and backed up.

8. White sugar.
This one’s going to be tough, but I’m going to try to cut it out altogether this year. There’s enough sweetness to be found in natural foods (like fruits and veg), and more nutritious substitutes available to cook with… if you’ve got favorites to recommend, please let me know in Comments.

7. Excuses not to exercise more.
I’m fortunate to be of a healthy weight and build, but have always wanted to be in better shape. (Yeah, we’re treading too close to “resolution” territory for my comfort here, but at least I’m not putting an “OR ELSE YOU FAIL!” goal on this.) Small steps: acknowledge that the weight bench is neither an expanding sh*t shelf nor an auxiliary cat bed; and start using the Nike+ iPod kit I found in my Christmas stocking, to keep track of how far I’m running/walking every day.  I set a goal today to run 10 times in the next 3 weeks… one down, nine to go.

6. Social media sites as time-sinks.
Don’t get me wrong. Social media sites aren’t a waste of time, and (in my opinion) as long as one has a purpose for being involved with them and limits the time spent to activities that further their pursuit of that purpose, it’s all good. But the novelty of Facebook is wearing thin, and Twitter and I are due for a performance review conversation.

5. Predictable phonecalls.
We all have them: friends or family members with whom we keep in touch because on some level we really, genuinely want to, but whose chats feel scripted because we seem to have them every time we connect. I come away from conversations with a select few people I’ve known for years, thinking “I’m really glad this person is still in my life, but wow, I could really use an espresso right now.” In most cases, shared experiences are the answer: I know I need to reconnect with these people in person to create a few more things to reflect and reminisce about. In others, it might just be time to move on (and they probably feel the same way). Rest assured: if this item describes YOU, you’ve already heard me tell you about this…I’m not delivering any personal messages via this entry.

4. Other people’s expectations for my life and career.
I’ve touched on this one in the past and am still zeroing in on the “what” and “from whom,” but suffice it to say that I’m neither the writer nor the person I could be, if not for subtle (and overt) suggestions from others about the kind of writer and person I “ought to be.” Getting progressively more in touch with and in control of this is at the core of what makestuffsimple.com is and will be about. (Stay tuned.)

3. Junk.
What it is, isn’t important – nor is my status as a recovering “pack rat.” At the end of last year, I found myself with shelves that seemed full (but really weren’t), and floors that might as well have had hopscotch lines painted on them for the ridiculous dancing I needed to do to negotiate them. The ongoing,  uphill battle against clutter (inspired mostly by my experience with David Allen’s Getting Things Done) is finally taking root, I think; questions like “Why is this [object] in my life?” and “Do I see myself using this at any point in the next 2 weeks, and if so, what’s the next action with this item?” are starting to occur naturally.  Another really good one: “Is this available/retrievable electronically (at little or no cost) if I ever need it later?” If yes, out it goes…after I’ve made an electronic note of where to find a replacement (in Evernote, or whatever other gateway to my system is readily at hand).

2. Fake growth.
Jonathan Mead has written eloquently on this topic (among others); I encourage you to check out his thoughts on the difference between pursuing growth, and attempting to fix “deficits” we think we see in ourselves. (His contention: real growth is not about constantly seeking something outside yourself – such as external praise or fleeting moments of “fulfillment” – but instead about coming to the realization, repeatedly if necessary, that we’re already whole and already have what it takes to do anything we want to do.

1.Perfectionism.
I’m not someone who has ever been called a “perfectionist,” but maybe it’s because I hide it well… and/or because my demeanor doesn’t scream “Type A personality.” For example, in the past, I might have treated this posting as if it was the world’s single and sole opportunity to figure out who I am, rather than just a data point…and as a result, I probably would have been too chickensh*t even to write it. Yes, first impressions are important (and if this is how we’re meeting, then “Hi, and welcome!”). But the people who stress about the little stuff are NOT the world’s Gurus of Quality Control… they’re the ones who end up unhappy, unhealthy and prematurely gray.

 

If you’ve read this far, I’d love to know your thoughts on any of these. More next week.

This is not another article on New Year’s “resolutions.” I’m sick of them (the articles), and occasionally make sport of avoiding them:

“Ha! Another link ignored. +1!”

Historically they’ve done nothing but remind me of “what I’ve done and what I’ve failed to do” in the previous year, an idea which, to me, resonates entirely too much with “churchliness” for comfort.

Sure, I’ve set goals to make real change this year, much of it designed to make stuff simple — and I’m outlining some of those goals here, at least in part, to hold myself accountable.

But I refuse to use “the R word.”

I feel about resolutions the way Ferris Bueller felt about “isms.” Hold to them too tightly, or punish yourself for deviating from them, and risk falling out of the most important habit: believing in yourself.

(Yeah, OK. Ferris said it better. What else would you expect from the coolest kid in school?)

Here’s my point.

Unlike most other resolution-themed posts, I’m not trying to tell anyone else what to do to change or improve their lives. These are pretty much for, and about, me (“New Year’s me-solutions?”). I hope reader(s!) of this page will get some value from them, or at least will see in them something familiar.

• I’ll send a metric ton of paper to the recycler, starting this week. I’m struck by how much power exists in old mail, especially various “statements” and “summaries.” Numbers get bigger or smaller, sales pitches get brighter, louder and more numerous; and all of it makes me want to take my name off the mailbox. Even worse are the fat manila files in the corner file cabinet, concentrating and directing this power like a magnifying glass in the sun.

 

• I’ll make more room for giving back, this year. I’ve got nothing pithy to add to this, and it’s certainly not a new idea. In fact, it’s trotted out every January to spur (or guilt) each of us to some higher community purpose. OK, Universe, message received loud and clear. Suffice it to say I’m surrounded by reminders that I wouldn’t be where I am without the grace of others, and this year I’ll find a way to return the favor.

 

• I’ll move, remove, repair, donate or Freecycle half my furniture. Last night I moved the bed a foot out from the wall, put the nightstand where I’d always intended to (rather than next to that spot), and rotated the dresser ninety degrees. Trivial changes, perhaps, but the bedroom feels just that slight bit more “finished.”
  
  (Bonus: they confused the hell out of the cat, who, unable to find familiarity elsewhere in the flat nor to decide where to sleep, instead ran desperate laps for nearly an hour.)

 

• Corners of rooms will pass the “white glove” test. Again, the Idiot Feline spurs change. If clearing the clothes dryer’s lint screen can be seen as evicting the cat one handful at a time, suctioning the corners of the living room is like discovering (and relocating) whole families. Go forth, fuzzball, and multiply…somewhere else.

 

• I’ll reduce the space reserved for “expectations” of all types. Plenty of other bloggers will remind you of 2009’s shattered or unmet expectations (the Madoffs, the Tigers, your sports team of choice*, the 111th U.S. Congress).
  
  I’ve always heard the only way to avoid disappointment is to forego expectations, but the outlook that suggests seems pretty bleak. Maybe the delta between success and disappointment lies in how rigorously one checks their expectations against the facts in evidence (now there’s an idea). For example, I didn’t expect a certain someone to appear in my life this year, affect me deeply and then vanish – but, then, I didn’t check my facts nor listen to the little voice telling me I’d leapt before looking.
  
  Lesson learned, not to be repeated (I hope).

 

• I’ll reinvent my career, with complete disregard for past hurdles. I used to waste time plotting the nagging insecurities and past “epic FAILs” of my career like dots on graph paper: strained relationships with a boss and a co-worker; truly meaningless meetings into which I invested too much emotional capital; endless days and nights working toward someone else’s goals and expectations (there’s that word again) absent any personal buy-in from me.
  
  
  
  (A tale originally told, I believe, in the Gospel According to Cameron Frye, who sayeth: “Don’t make me participate in your stupid crap if you don’t like the way I do it!”)
  
  Sometime recently, I decided to rearrange them. (One can, after all, choose to see the past as interpretive – and thus, “re-interpretable.”) When I connect that constellation now, I don’t exactly see a straight line, a picket fence or a paint-by-numbers picture of the seaside…but I do see an arrowhead at the end of the line. Dots and dashes arranged as if in Morse code, spelling out a simple message:
  
  “Keep going.”

 

• Above all, I’ll trust myself. Got an inner critic? Sure, we all do. Do yourself a favor this year and tell him to jump in the nearest lake. I did, at least a couple of times – not quite enough to make it a habit just yet.
  
  Thanks to the writers, directors and actors in my life who reminded me to take a risk, I finally: got shot down by a real publisher; “strut[ted] and fret[ted my] hour upon the stage,” to be heard from…sometime soon; and began to give shape and voice to story ideas that have been baking for a decade. (More on these in future posts.)

 

Happy New Year. Refunds on misspent youth are still available, and you don’t even need your receipt.

Ever forward.

Your turn

Whether or not you call them “resolutions,” what are your plans to innovate, renovate or reinvigorate during the coming year?

 

* As I write this my New York Jets are playing spoiler to the upstart Cincinnati Bengals, pitching a shutout through three quarters (so far). It’s a ho-hum Battle of the Bubble, but the fact that these two teams are in a Wild Card race at all has certainly shattered my expectations.

See also: Chicago’s Jay Cutler.
(Are you listening, Ron Turner and Jerry Angelo? Just let the guy play.)