I sit in the early November sunshine in Justin Herman Plaza where, just past the usual Friday arts and crafts fair, I can see the mushroom clusters of Occupy San Francisco tents.

While the big stuff locally has been happening across the Bay in Oakland, these folks have been quietly (well, mostly) camping out here for days. I’ve heard several viewpoints on the worldwide Occupy movement, and I’m still wrestling with how I feel about it.

Because there aren’t just two sides—there are multiple sides.

Just like San Francisco, which I love for its colorful variety. In fact, where I sit now is like a microcosm of a much larger picture.

The artisans in front of me are trying to earn some cash through their crafts, while behind me a homeless man sleeps on the grass, soaking up the free sunshine. The working rich, the working poor and the working in-betweens crisscross the street in front of me in their high heels, sensible working shoes, old jalopies, and fancy cars.

Tourists from everywhere gawk at the Ferry Building and stroll along the Embarcadero while a couple of giggling schoolgirls with oversized backpacks walk by. A city worker rolls past on his cement-sweeper. No clue whether this is his regular shift or if he’s pulling extra duty cleaning up after the Occupiers.

Ethnically, culturally, economically, ideologically—San Francisco is about as diverse as it gets. That’s part of why I love it so much.

And why I’ve been having trouble with the whole “99% vs. 1%” thing.

99% vs. 1% sets up a false dichotomy.

Who decides who is in which group? The extreme ends of the spectrum are clear to all of us, but I bet there are dozens of protestors out here who would consider many of the passers-by to be in the 1%, while those very people think of themselves as part of the 99%.

It’s all relative.

There aren’t two groups—there are billions of unique human beings. Each with his or her own story, each doing the best they can within the circumstances in which they find themselves.

We’re all on this planet at this time together, working things out day by day. And regardless of our circumstances, no one wants to feel taken advantage of. No one wants to be marginalized, alienated, or singled out by accusations.

We are all the 100%.

The homeless man woke up and is now stretching. It looks a lot like yoga—similar to what the woman with the mat strapped to her gym bag might have just been doing on her lunch break.

I’m on my lunch break, too. I work in one of these high-rises, but it would be easy to take me for one of the activists, with my casual-day blue jeans, t-shirt, ethnic handbag and bandana in my hair.

It’s tempting, but usually inaccurate, to judge by appearance—or salary—alone.

Maybe that woman in the expensively tailored suit and leather handbag makes a 6- or 7-figure salary…but spends a third of it on healthcare for her aged and very ill parents. Or donates handsomely to one of the local animal shelters. Or works in a soup kitchen every weekend.

And maybe that guy to whom she just served a bowl of canned spaghetti and meatballs is on the street because he’s mentally ill. Or has been alone since his wife died and comes here as much for the companionship as for the free food. Or maybe he was working in the building right next to hers until the bank foreclosed on his home, his wife divorced him, and he became suicidally depressed for a while.

The point is, we never know.

We never know what someone else is struggling with until we ask them.

This involves deep listening, empathy, and a willingness to give space to viewpoints we might not share for the sake of understanding them better.

The issues here are complex and tangled. I’m not for the Occupy protests, and I’m not against them. I am thinking about the multiplicity of issues they raise.

Most of all, I’m engaged in the social conversation about what’s going on, because I think it’s hugely important. I’d like to think we’re on the cusp of some kind of turning point for the better.

What do you think?

Oh, and if you like the image at the top of this post, I just opened up a brand-new CafePress store so that I could print it on something wearable for myself. If you’d like to join me in displaying this sentiment, please visit my new store on CafePress! 50% of all profits will be donated to Habitat for Humanity International, so you won’t just be wearing the words–you’ll be acting on them, too.

“Here. You might like to write about this on your blog.” A wink, a jaunty tip of his imaginary hat, and my friend was gone. In my hand was a tiny book weighing just a few ounces, entitled The Underachiever’s Manifesto.

My friend is known for his sense of humor, but then again, as a classic overachiever, maybe there was something beneficial in there for me. I opened the book.

And closed it less than an hour later. Like I said, it’s a very slim volume. The author would probably say that it’s exactly as long as necessary, and not a word longer.

It left me . . . disturbed. Because it’s a funny book, but in the way that Dilbert cartoons are funny, being only slight exaggerations (hmm, perhaps I’m being too charitable there) on work environments that really do exist.

Take, for example, the “Ten Principles of Underachievement.” I particularly like #3 – Expectations lead to misery. Author Ray Bennett writes:

It would be nice to believe that setting the bar high always helps, but it doesn’t. Most people start on an exercise program looking for great improvement, only to quit out of disappointment. If only they had learned to avoid expectations . . .

Ouch. Nail hit squarely on the head.

He also talks about the law of diminishing returns. In any undertaking, there comes a point where even if the spirit is willing, the flesh is gasping for rest. The mind goes into lockdown from sheer overload. At that point, you start getting less and less accomplished for every bit of extra effort you apply. Continuing to push will result in burnout, injury, or worse.

Slow down, Bennett says. Lower the bar. Good enough is good enough.

Of course, my Inner Drill Sergeant scoffs at this notion. “Are you insane, woman? How can you respect yourself if you deliberately do less than you’re capable of?”

I’m getting better at scoffing right back. Some days I can look my Drill Sergeant right in the face and say, “You’re only one part of me, and I don’t have to listen to you all the time anymore.”

Other days I still snap a smart salute, spin on my heel, and march away to do whatever the Sergeant has told me to. But at least when that happens, I’m getting better at noticing it. On good days, I even refrain from judging myself for it.

It takes a long time to break a pattern this entrenched. Compassion for myself seems like a good way to go.

So I’m experimenting with doing less. Deliberately. Just a little, here and there.

• Not always being the first to volunteer whenever a task comes up at work, because after more than three years on the job, I shouldn’t have to feel like I’m proving what a good worker I am every single day.
• Not balancing my checkbook for the first time in my life. (Miraculously, I’ve survived this.)
• Not trying to cook (which usually ends up as a late-night run for junk food), but allowing myself to order takeout instead.
• Not keeping up with my elaborate personal planning system; just writing down brief to-do lists on Post-It notes as they occur to me.

The Underachiever’s Manifesto is a lopsided little treatise. It doesn’t take into account that there are some situations in which you really do need to strive for perfection—for instance, I don’t think I’d hand the book to an air traffic controller just going on-shift.

I also don’t believe that pushing yourself is always a bad thing. I’m proud that I’ve run three marathons, for instance, and I never would have accomplished that without going way out of my comfort zone. I think that every now and then, choosing a really difficult goal and going all-out to achieve it can really be inspiring, and it can teach you some valuable lessons about what you’re capable of.

But this book definitely got me thinking.

What about you? Are there areas in your life where you’ve experimented with turning things down a notch? What happened when you did? Or maybe there’s a situation where you’d like to try that approach. Where can you do less and possibly gain more? And what would you gain?

Feel free to comment below. I’d love to have a conversation about this . . .

In my last post, I talked about the wonderful feeling you get when you achieve closure on something that’s been hanging out on your to-do list for too long. I also talked about the importance of being gentle with yourself as you delve into your piles of stuff (either virtual or actual).

Now it’s time for an admission. I’m really, really bad at being gentle with myself.

Specifically, I’ve been in a physical purging phase (no, not bulimia, just uncluttering) for a handful of months now, and at times I’ve been downright brutal about it. And you know what? Mostly it’s felt really, really good.

So I guess the last one was the “closure” post, and this one is the “disclosure” post. As in, full disclosure on my part. Because no matter what I said last time, and no matter what I say in the future, sometimes just digging in and going full bore until you’ve got some tangible results in one intense session of something can be extremely satisfying.

What’s been hard has been dealing with my own limited stores of energy, and that’s where the patience and compassion have come in. I can’t always go full bore like I used to. When I was in my teens, twenties, and early 30s I could burn the candle at more ends than the candle had, and to hell with the consequences. Well, now I’m living with the consequences. I’ve learned you can’t ignore your body completely, because it will let you know in no uncertain terms when it’s had enough of your disrespect. I’ve learned (well, okay, I’m learning) to ride the waves of energy as they come; to be grateful when I have enough to get things done, and to be at least somewhat at peace when I just need to stop and rest for a while.

But the stuff? The physical stuff? Oh, I’m getting rid of it right and left. I’m being as responsible as I can, taking bags of clothing and usable household items to Goodwill, but I’m also making myself just toss things. Sure, maybe I could get a few bucks for, say, that piece of old concert memorabilia on eBay, but to be honest it’s just not worth my time, effort, and energy. Energy has become currency to me, and I sometimes have to be even more thrifty with it than I am with money. (Ooh, ooh—I could write a blog post about that. Let me know if you’d like me to write a blog post about that.)

Anyway, back to brutality. (Now there’s something I never expected to type in my blog.) During any of my recent decluttering sessions, I’d pick up the next thing in the area I was working on and ask myself, “Is this something that you love? Not just like, but truly cherish?” If not, I’d ask, “Is this something you use with any regularity?” If the answer to both questions was no, the item was history. Okay, there some exceptions, such as paycheck stubs, tax returns, and other papers that I sort of have to keep on file for a certain amount of time, and a few projects that I still intend to do (no, really!) and simply haven’t gotten around to yet. And books. My biggest gazingus pin. I’ve learned the folly of getting rid of books. It doesn’t work—they find a way back.

So if you find yourself ready for an intense bout of Whatever-Clearing, here are some tips I can offer you based on what has worked for me.

Clearing physical possessions? Give them the Active Ownership Test.

Active ownership is different than passive ownership. Passive ownership is keeping your two-sizes-too-small jeans in the very back closet where you can’t see them, so they are there if you ever lose the weight. Active ownership is hanging them in full view as a motivator to do your daily workout. (Not that you should—that’s just an example off the top of my head.) Passive ownership is storing a box of Grandma’s heirloom jewelry on a shelf somewhere. Active ownership is keeping a few pieces in your jewelry box and wearing them occasionally, with fond thoughts of her when you do. Passive ownership is using your weight bench as a clothing rack and plant stand. Active ownership is picking up those barbells and dumbbells on at least a semi-regular basis and doing some lifting.

The Active Ownership Test fits into the concept of wabi-sabi. Does the thing you’re considering have great value for you, such that you truly cherish its utility, uniqueness and presence in your life, or is it just taking up space? I’m not advocating asceticism, or tossing out things you really will regret later, but it’s important to recognize that our possessions take up energy in our psyches as well as space in our homes and offices. If you’re only passively owning something, you might want to take a close look at it and decide whether it’s worth the space and energy needed to maintain it. Letting go of things does not make you a bad, disrespectful, wasteful, or ungrateful person if it’s truly time to let them go.

Working on your to-do lists? Give them the Rolaids Test.

Yes, I just made this up right now, because I’m a word geek who likes inventing acronyms. And yes, it’s kinda silly.

That activity you’re considering. Does it have a ROLAIDS (Realistic Or Likely Action I’ll Do Soon) in its pocket? If it does, leave it on your to-do list. If not, do one of two things with it. Either put it on a separate “someday/maybe” list (concept courtesy of David Allen’s book Getting Things Done) so that it’s written down where you can review it later but you don’t have to waste energy by having to remember it, or drop it from your list entirely. Ahhhh! How do you spell relief? )

In either case (physical items or to-dos—and yes, those can and often do overlap), an intense session of Going Through Your Stuff can have fast-acting, stomach-easing results. But use with caution! This method works so powerfully that it can sometimes trigger unintended trauma. When in doubt, test it on a small portion of your home or office first, wait 24 hours, and observe the results. Proceed carefully. Less invasive methods may be indicated.

And always consult your decluttering doctor before beginning any new exorcizing program. Here are a few I recommend highly because I’ve personally worked with them all:

Lisa Baldwin of Divine Order
Jennifer Hofmann of Inspired Home Office
Shannon Wilkinson of Your Life – Inspired

And remember—if you can—that being gentle with yourself also works wonders.

Or so they say.

Common sense tells us that perfectionists are neat freaks, with residences ready to be photographed for House Beautiful at a moment’s notice. Or if not that, at least perfectionists never have issues with clutter.

Wrong.

In fact, the physical clutter that surrounds us is often a source of guilt and shame. In classic perfectionist style, we tell ourselves that we “should” be able to manage our stuff and our surroundings better. We often don’t invite people to our homes for fear they will judge us for our messy dwellings. And the clutter can weigh on our minds even when it’s not in sight. I’ve often said that the state of my mind reflects the state of my bedroom; even when I’m somewhere else, I can’t think clearly because I’m remembering the mess that awaits me when I get home and feeling the pressure to deal with it.

So why does this counterintuitive thing happen? Why do perfectionists so often find themselves being . . . well, really messy? For a number of reasons.

One is the drive to be thorough and complete beyond necessity. Maybe you have piles of magazines or papers sitting around that you haven’t read yet. Or craft projects, or clothing to mend, or auto parts in the garage, or that broken clock you’ve been meaning to fix for the past two years. To toss these things would constitute an admission that you’ll never get around to doing them even though you’ve decided that you should. And that would mean you’re less than the perfectly together person you want to feel you are.

Another reason is the infamous “just in case.” What if you finally lose the weight you’ve been trying to, and you can fit into that overflowing closetful of pefectly good “skinny” clothing again, rather than the ten or twelve outfits you’ve been rotating through for the last year? What if you eventually write that book or start that business, and need a quote from that very article you printed off the Internet several months back? You know, the one perched precariously on the stack of boxes in the corner full of books you really do intend to read. Someday soon now, honestly.

Sometimes you simply feel overwhelmed by the thought of all the decluttering that needs to be done, and so you keep finding (consciously or unconsciously) ways to avoid it.

If you see yourself reflected in any of these descriptions, there are things you can do to begin extricating yourself from the morass of stuff that surrounds you, both physically and psychologically.

First, take an honest look and decide whether it’s really all that bad. If you’re anything like me, you hold yourself to a higher standard than anyone else around you. So pretend for a moment that this is a friend’s house, or a colleague’s office. Would you fault them for what you see, or would you consider the amount of clutter to be reasonable? Maybe it makes the home feel cozy and lived-in. Maybe it’s the office of a busy person who has more important things to do right now than handle all the back-filing. Would you be forgiving of the way this space looks if it wasn’t your own? If so, can you allow for the possibility of forgiving yourself?

If you decide that the mess truly is problematic, there are some things you can try to circumvent your pesky inner perfectionist. One very effective method is to assign yourself one extremely small area per day to declutter. You might tackle the top of one cabinet one one day, or a single desk drawer. If you’re decluttering the kitchen, do one cabinet shelf. Have two boxes or baskets handy. In one, toss the items you’re going to get rid of. The other is for all the items that are being temporarily displaced until you find or clear a space for them to have a new home. You’ll be surprised how quickly you will see a difference in your physical environment by tackling just one small area a day. Even more, you’ll begin to feel a sense of clarity, space, and relief that will amaze you.

Another thing to try is to get some of your thoughts and feelings down in words. Write about why you really want to use up those candlemaking supplies or work your way through that stack of novels. Sometimes just getting it all down on paper is enough to give you some fresh perspective on the situation. This can clarify your goals, allowing you to refocus on some while possibly eliminating others–and all the physical stuff that goes with them.

You can also try reasoning with yourself about what you actually need. If you tend to hoard things, sometimes you can find ways to gently release some of them from your life. If you ever really want to read a particular book again, there is always the library, or the Internet since so many publications are now available online, either for free or (for used copies) cheaply on sites like eBay or Amazon. How quickly can you honestly expect to lose the weight you want to, and wouldn’t someone who shops at Goodwill or the Salvation Army be able to get good use from your non-fitting clothing while you’re losing it? Besides, think what fun it will be to shop for new clothing to celebrate your weight loss when you get there! Maybe you can even plan on doing that at Goodwill yourself.

I remember reading about a man who sold all his unneeded things on eBay, and banked the money in an “If I Ever Need to Repurchase Anything I’ve Sold” account. Which he then earned interest on. Brilliant idea.

Sometimes it’s just too much for you to face on your own. In those instances, it’s often best to enlist the help of a professional. Paying for decluttering assistance is not a luxury–it’s a legitimate “taking care of yourself” investment that will pay off many times over in increased peace of mind, productivity, and ability to focus on what’s truly important in your life. In the United States, the National Association of Professional Organizers maintains a list of accredited professional organizers with many different areas of expertise. This is the best way to find a trustworthy professional organizer in your area. 

Surprisingly, there are many people who can assist you at a distance over the Internet. Three individuals I can recommend (I am not being compensated for these recommendations, by the way) are Jennifer Hofmann of Inspired Home Office, Lisa Baldwin of Divine Order, and Alison Marks of Inside Out Design Coaching. Check them out to see if what they do resonates with you.

The main piece of advice I can give you throughout any of these processes is to be compassionate with yourself. You are a diligent, hardworking person who sincerely wants to do the best you can–that’s why you’ve surrounded yourself with so many to-do’s, probably more than you can handle. It absolutely does not mean you’re a failure if you never get to them all.

We’ll talk about these inner, “feeling” aspects of perfectionism much more as time goes on, and how we can be gentle and forgiving with ourselves.

In the meantime, happy gradual and compassionate decluttering to you! Feel free to respond in the comments below and let me know how it’s going for you, or if you have any questions you’d like me to address in future posts. You’re always welcome to e-mail me, too. My e-mail address is at the bottom of the “about me” page.