<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236</id><updated>2012-02-02T13:59:17.833-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clutter Busting with Brooks Palmer</title><subtitle type='html'>Visit &lt;a href="http://www.clutterbusting.com"&gt;www.clutterbusting.com&lt;/a&gt;!
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Brooks Palmer (c)2011</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>813</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7698533016138473607</id><published>2012-02-02T13:30:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T13:59:17.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama Clutter</title><content type='html'>I was having breakfast with a friend of mine this morning. He recently went through a divorce. During the meal he got an angry email from his ex. He started fretting about what it meant. He worried that he had done something wrong. He frantically rambled about the hell he'd gotten himself into and he showed no signs of slowing down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I said that he gets pleasure out of extending the drama. I said that even though he was bemoaning what had happened, there was some glee in his eyes. Some unhealthy part of him likes feeding off these kind of situations. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sobered him up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that impulse to feed off of drama. It used to be a part of my life. I liked the adrenalin. It felt important. But it was clutter for me because it made me tired. And it didn't solve or repair anything. It didn't serve me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a friend telling me, "You're addicted to drama" about seven years ago for it to become an aversion. I feel it rise up in me sometimes, but it's rare I take the bait. That doesn't mean I don't get upset, or complain, or feel afraid. But I lost my appetite for following it into the "what's going to come of me?" descent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7698533016138473607?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7698533016138473607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7698533016138473607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7698533016138473607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7698533016138473607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/02/drama-clutter.html' title='Drama Clutter'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-4725888423172156902</id><published>2012-02-01T13:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T14:13:45.338-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Joy Without Borders</title><content type='html'>My client came across an archaic and musty smelling box in her garage. She opened it up and discovered her CD collection. There were CDs in jewel boxes, loose CDs, and CDs in carrying case wallets. She was excited and said, "There they are! I've been looking for these."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her if she listened to CDs. Her enthusiasm waned. She said she mostly listened to cable radio in her car. Sometimes she would plug in her iphone and listen to music. But she didn't listen to her CDs anymore. It was hard for her to consider letting the CDs go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said initially it's hard to think of letting something go that we used to love and enjoy. When we see the thing, we remember the joy it once brought us. A part of us feels we will lose some happiness if we let it go. But our happiness is not isolated and inherent in things. It makes us unhappy when we try and contain it. Joy is a free-floating energy that tends to flow through us when we're engaged in something that matters to us now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She felt good about putting the CDs in the donate pile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-4725888423172156902?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/4725888423172156902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=4725888423172156902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4725888423172156902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4725888423172156902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/02/joy-without-borders.html' title='A Joy Without Borders'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-937943168479976770</id><published>2012-01-31T13:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T13:37:09.254-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Naturally Occuring</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was feeling sad. I didn't know why. And the feeling built through the day. I didn't have work to distract me from the sadness, so I gave up trying to resist the strong feelings. I think the worst part of being sad is trying not to be. It can feel like trying to push a river the opposite direction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a dream where I was sitting in my high school bedroom's closet. The closet was filled with about twenty paper bags of stuff. Each bag had stuff from when I was ten to eighteen. I was clutter busting my way through them. One bag was filled with receipts of everything I purchased. When I looked at a receipt, I was holding the actual thing I paid for. Another bag had a photo of everything I'd done. The photos were moving images. There was a bag of feelings that I'd held inside. One was a bag of miscellaneous ambitions. As I went through things, as I acknowledged them, they evaporated. I felt stronger as each thing went. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up feeling lighter. The sadness was gone. I thought that my experience the previous day, combined with the dream was an emotional clutter bust. I didn't set out to do this letting go. It happened. I think when sadness or anger or other strong uncomfortable emotions come up without a particular reason behind them, they are our bodies and minds naturally clutter busting. Kind of like when a snake sheds its skin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-937943168479976770?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/937943168479976770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=937943168479976770' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/937943168479976770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/937943168479976770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/naturally-occuring.html' title='Naturally Occuring'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7142570983160175085</id><published>2012-01-30T01:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T02:02:26.848-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clutter Busting Photos</title><content type='html'>I was helping my client go through the piles of stuff in her garage. We came across five boxes of photos. She groaned. She wanted to just leave them be. She said she didn't ever look at them, but she didn't want to throw them away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that if we didn't go through the photos, there would always be an uncomfortable part of her that knows they're sitting there unresolved. I told her that I knew she was feeling overwhelmed, and that's what was influencing her. But I said if we went through the photos one at a time, in a casual way, it would be easier for her. I unfolded two travel chairs and invited her to take a seat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sat down. I handed her a stack of pictures. She was okay once she started. Her discriminating skills kicked right in. She picked out the photos she liked, and tossed the ones she didn't care for. There were a lot of duplicate pictures. There were blurry shots. She found a bunch of pictures of other people's babies. She said "These babies - I don't even know who they are." All of these went in the trash. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she finished the first box of photos, we went back to clutter busting other things in the garage. I wanted her to have a break so she didn't get overwhelmed again. After a half-hour or so we came back to the next photo box. She said it was hard to go through the photos, but she was glad she was finally taking care of them. She said she wanted to take her absolute favorites and put them in a photo book where it would be easier to enjoy them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7142570983160175085?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7142570983160175085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7142570983160175085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7142570983160175085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7142570983160175085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/clutter-busting-photos.html' title='Clutter Busting Photos'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2639127299657317831</id><published>2012-01-27T14:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T14:39:40.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We Know</title><content type='html'>My job as a clutter buster is to help a person get back in touch with their sensitive knowingness. That's why I ask a lot of questions. "Do you like this or can you let it go?" "Would you buy this if you were out shopping today?" "Do you still use this, or not?" My clients got overwhelmed and stopped asking themselves questions. So it helps for me to ask. I act as a jump start. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my intention behind these blog posts. I want to spark your discriminating skills. I trust the innate part of you that knows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're the expert of you. You know what you need and don't need. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was working with a client whose living space was taken up by her things. She had very little space of her own. It felt like her things invaded her home and they gave her an ever-shrinking space to live in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was intimidated by her stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that she was the only important thing in her home. Her voice was the only one that mattered. She was the decider. Not her things. She cried. I think she was feeling some relief. It's empowering to remember it's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2639127299657317831?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2639127299657317831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2639127299657317831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2639127299657317831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2639127299657317831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/we-know.html' title='We Know'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3613236256469766740</id><published>2012-01-26T12:39:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T15:21:00.008-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hanging on to Something that Hurts</title><content type='html'>The power of emotional attachment can make us hang on to something that hurts us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked with a couple who had been sleeping on the same bed for eight years. When I asked them both if they liked the bed, the man said "Yes", the woman said, "No." She said she never liked it. But she never mentioned anything because she knew her husband liked the bed and she wanted him to be happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of my female clients have wanted to hang on to shoes that hurt their feet. Some of the shoes they still wore. For others, it was too painful to wear the shoes, but they still wanted to hang on to them. I got the idea to write today's blog after reading an article from the New York Times called &lt;a href="http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/01/25/scientists-look-at-the-dangers-of-high-heels/?src=me&amp;ref=general"&gt;A Scientific Look at the Dangers of High Heels&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though we can notice the toll it takes, it can be hard to let go of something that hurts us because some part of us is getting taken care of. Whether it's staying in a friendship that's harsh on us, or eating something that makes us sick, or living with family heirlooms that we don't care for but feel too guilty to let go of, a deep emotional part of us is feeling satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It helps to notice the mechanics of our emotional wiring for what it is in the moment. If we fight with or get angry and frustrated at ourselves, the hold tightens. It helps to notice this part of our life. And then question if we want to continue with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember working with a client in her clothes closet. She was complaining about how certain of her shoes were painful to wear, at the same time she said she liked how good they looked on her. Rather than say she should just get rid of them, I asked her to try them on. She did. She put on a pair. She stood up. She grimaced. I said, "We're in a shoe store. Take a walk around and see if you'd like to buy them." I kept it neutral because I wanted her to be as open as she could be. She walked a few steps and said, "I can't wear these anymore." She did the same with the other shoes that hurt her and she let them go too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the couple that I mentioned earlier, after the wife said she didn't like the bed, I simply asked if they wanted to keep the bed, or let it go. I wanted them to know they could choose either one. Again, I felt the openness would be beneficial. When we feel pressured, we can get overwhelmed and want to seek solace in old emotional hiding places. The couple took a moment. They decided on letting go of the old bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3613236256469766740?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3613236256469766740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3613236256469766740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3613236256469766740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3613236256469766740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/hanging-on-to-something-that-hurts.html' title='Hanging on to Something that Hurts'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2219688995231217710</id><published>2012-01-25T12:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T14:31:02.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Toys</title><content type='html'>I was talking with someone yesterday who said she was tentative about clutter busting because she felt it meant living a spartan lifestyle. She thought she would eliminate everything but just a few of the most basic and absolute necessities. She felt it would be a life devoid of feeling and joy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that's a normal reaction. The part of us that gets invested in our clutter finds reasons to not let go. We're afraid and it makes sense that we get defensive. We can be compassionate with ourselves and be aware of this inner tension. That tension is the emotional grip that makes us hold on and feel stuck in our stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can tell ourselves that the only things that we're considering letting go of are what we no longer care about anymore. The stuff that no longer sparks our interest. These are clothes we no longer wear, CDs we don't like listening to anymore, papers we don't need, furniture we don't like sitting on, art that doesn't ring our bell, shoes we used to like but now don't, food we don't eat or that makes us feel sick, people who irritate us or make us tired, activities that drain us, and anything else we don't love.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we're left with are all the things that we feel a connection with. It's like a fridge full of food that we love to eat. Our living space won't be an empty space of lack, but a living space that contains our toys. I like the word toys because it means we associate a playfulness with our things. We love being with and using what's in our life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2219688995231217710?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2219688995231217710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2219688995231217710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2219688995231217710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2219688995231217710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/toys.html' title='Toys'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1523705569047254259</id><published>2012-01-24T13:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T13:26:00.315-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Is a Home?</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking a lot about what makes a home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think of a home as a place where I feel comfortable. It's a place that supports me. I feel a connection with the space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been away from my home in Chicago for two and a half months now. Currently I'm staying with friends in Los Angeles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I'm here, I feel like I'm at home. I'm with friends. I enjoy eating fresh grapefruit from the tree in the backyard. I like the 70-80 degree temperatures. The belongings I have are just the things I love and use. I adore the green plants growing everywhere in LA. I actually saw some lettuce growing up from a crack in the sidewalk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By keeping my heart open to notice what doesn't feel good and by removing it, I'm able to feel at home most of the places I go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to instill this same feeling for my clients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I go to work at a client's house, they initially don't feel at home. They own the space, or are renting it, but they don't have a connection with where they live. The presence of things that aren't serving them in the space agitate them. The uncomfortableness of living there drains them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But by letting go of what they no longer care for, their house starts to become a home. They get a connection with their living space. They feel better. And from what they write and tell me later, they start to feel at home away from the house too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a big world out there, and if we can extend the boundaries of our home, then we can really start enjoying our lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1523705569047254259?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1523705569047254259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1523705569047254259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1523705569047254259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1523705569047254259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/what-is-home.html' title='What Is a Home?'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-8658764403427351432</id><published>2012-01-23T12:19:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T14:54:33.229-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Benefit of Time to Ourselves</title><content type='html'>My client was excited that her new business was thriving. But she also said she was exhausted. She felt tapped out from the non-stop activity of her work, plus her life with her family. She said her favorite memories were the few moments in her life when she was relaxed and peaceful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said we know we're overwhelmed when we get too busy to rest. The resulting tiredness negatively affects our activities, creating more problems for us to have to fix later. My client said that she couldn't afford to take a week's vacation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that a little bit of rest goes a long way. Sometimes just a few hours of resting, or being out in nature, playing with a pet, or listening to music can be rejuvenating. We might even have to schedule in this rest just to make sure we get this elixir. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes a conscious effort because taking a break is not a role model that we're encouraged to follow. We live in an adrenalized culture. We learn from ads, tv, the internet, and society as a whole to always be doing something. I saw someone walking down the sidewalk yesterday, frantically texting. I had the thought that she was missing out on an opportunity to just walk and be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Activity becomes clutter when it depletes us and takes away from our quality of life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client said that since she was the boss, she was going to schedule in some half-days off. She actually put them in her calender.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-8658764403427351432?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/8658764403427351432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=8658764403427351432' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8658764403427351432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8658764403427351432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/benefit-of-time-to-ourselves.html' title='The Benefit of Time to Ourselves'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-8089697218946998331</id><published>2012-01-20T20:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T21:01:16.064-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Nice By-Product</title><content type='html'>I was visiting a friend today and she told me about how she and her husband have streamlined their life to include just the things they like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They travel a lot and she said they discovered how nice it was to be in a hotel room that only had the stuff they needed. She said they discovered that it made things much simpler and they wanted to extend that easy feeling into their home life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they went through their home and shed things together. They'd ask, "Are we loving this anymore, or not?" If the answer was no, they would donate or toss it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They said tossing together made them feel closer. She said they discovered that their closeness was one of their favorite possessions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-8089697218946998331?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/8089697218946998331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=8089697218946998331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8089697218946998331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8089697218946998331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/nice-by-product.html' title='A Nice By-Product'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6480340020040453591</id><published>2012-01-19T11:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T12:19:19.946-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Who We Are</title><content type='html'>What is truly ours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things can be in our lives. We can even be considered the owners. But our hold is only temporary. It can be minutes or years. Things wear out, break, get lost, change, our needs change, we lose interest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that stays with us is ourselves. The one who's reading this. The one who feels desires. The one who experiences everything that comes and goes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who we are is so basic and always with us, that we forget about ourselves. Not that we disappear. We're always right here. But we often don't notice what's so simple and always present. It's easier for other things to take over our attention. It makes sense we get distracted. We become secondary to our things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there comes a point where we feel stuck. Where nothing new seems to make us happy. Where we feel overwhelmed with our things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep down it's an aching to be reconnected with ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where the inspiration to clutter bust comes from. The longing to feel our presence again makes us question the things in our life. It's similar to the feeling of not being able to breathe and removing the things that are blocking the flow of oxygen. Being with ourselves becomes paramount. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the distractions go. As we shed things that don't serve us, we reconnect. We feel peace of mind. That's who we are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6480340020040453591?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6480340020040453591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6480340020040453591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6480340020040453591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6480340020040453591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/who-we-are.html' title='Who We Are'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7715137535912311072</id><published>2012-01-18T12:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T12:59:30.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Never Know</title><content type='html'>I'm staying with friends in Los Angeles. Yesterday morning they woke up to a call that said their baby was ready if they wanted her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends have been on a waiting list for three years to adopt a child. Two days ago, a young mother dropped her two day old baby girl off at a fire station. The city of LA has a law saying that mothers who don't want to raise their newborns can let their babies go at a police station or fire department. This was the baby my friends were being offered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They said yes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They went to bed the night before without a thought of a new born. They woke up to being instant parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends went to the hospital to pick her up and came home three hours later with their baby daughter. They seemed stunned by the circumstances. We took turns holding her. We were amazed at her presence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me think about how we never know what's going to happen in the next moment. We wake up thinking we know what's up for us. But life has a mind of its own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking about how most of the significant things that have happened to me have been unplanned. They were things that happened to me. Suddenly there they were. I'd be stunned for a moment. And then I'd feel this new thing get absorbed by my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This experience with my friends makes me feel a little looser about my expectations for how the day will turn out. It feels good having some openness for the unexpected things that are going to happen in their own way and time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7715137535912311072?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7715137535912311072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7715137535912311072' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7715137535912311072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7715137535912311072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/you-never-know.html' title='You Never Know'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6192890493871755317</id><published>2012-01-17T02:05:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T14:01:10.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me-ness</title><content type='html'>There's a certain me-ness that happens to our things over time. The longer we posses something, the more we identify with the thing. It becomes a part of us. In a way, we see it as us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The me-ness makes it harder to consider whether something is part of our life or not. It can feel like we are questioning a part of our body. It can feel wrong to ask, "Do I like you or can I let you go?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client showed me his home library. The room was filled with books that he had collected for over twenty years. He displayed them with great pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggested we go through the books and see which ones are no longer a part of his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he felt resistance to going through the books. He said it felt like there was a force field around the books that was keeping him from being open to the clutter bust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said so much of him had been invested in these books for so many years that he saw himself in the collection. It was as if the borders of his body had extended into the books. I said his reaction was normal. But it would be worth taking a look because some of the book are probably no serving him and he would actually feel better by letting them go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We began taking a look. I showed him a book at a time. This would help break the illusion of his physical extension to his things. We think more clearly when considering just one thing rather than a group of stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He surprised himself by discovering that he actually no longer cared for many of the books. As he continued to let go, I sensed him becoming more present. It felt like he was pulling his sense of self back into his body.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6192890493871755317?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6192890493871755317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6192890493871755317' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6192890493871755317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6192890493871755317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/me-ness.html' title='Me-ness'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3759646570061657059</id><published>2012-01-16T01:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T01:33:27.348-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Honoring</title><content type='html'>There were over two hundred sealed cardboard boxes taking up much of the space of his garage. He said that the boxes were filled with stuffed animals. The animals were inventory from his failed business. He was feeling melancholy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These stuffed animals had been parked in his garage for over two years. He had no intention of trying to revive his business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him that it felt like a morgue in there. The boxes were like coffins and the stuffed animals were corpses. It felt dead and heavy. I said the inertia of living with this was dragging him down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said he would be honoring the stuffed animals if he were to let them move on to another place. We honor things by letting them go when we are through with them. Then they have a chance to be used by someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He liked the word "honoring." It took away the guilt and attachment. He said he would call a buyer who bought bulk products and resold them. He seemed much lighter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3759646570061657059?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3759646570061657059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3759646570061657059' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3759646570061657059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3759646570061657059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/honoring.html' title='Honoring'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3977680648572573394</id><published>2012-01-13T12:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T12:48:19.315-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An Easier Focus</title><content type='html'>There was stuff in disarray and piles on the floors, counters, and table tops. My client seemed pinched and nervous as she was absorbing the discordant energy, and she was giving her tension back to the space. I sensed she'd been living this way for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to get caught up in the clutter trance. The chaos hypnotizes us. We're stuck in the feeling of unfocused nervousness. It's a mental loop that keeps our awareness in the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to get her out of the mind jam of the clutter. Rather than talk about it, I started the clutter bust. I went to a pile on the kitchen counter and picked up the first item. It was an envelope. I asked her to open it up. She did. It was junk mail. I asked her what she wanted to do with it. She put it in a recycling bag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We kept going, item by item. I trust in people's ability to function when they have just one thing in front of them. We can handle one thing easily, and we fall apart when there's too much to consider. By looking at and considering one thing at a time, we're amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3977680648572573394?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3977680648572573394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3977680648572573394' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3977680648572573394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3977680648572573394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/easier-focus.html' title='An Easier Focus'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6174775715923945521</id><published>2012-01-12T12:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-12T12:43:25.199-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Things You Love</title><content type='html'>Rather than focus on clutter busting today, think about what you love in your life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's important to you now? What do you cherish and enjoy? What gives you tremendous pleasure now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole point in clutter busting is remove what we no longer care about so we can enjoy what we love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let your mind think about and relish the things, people, and activities that mean so much to you right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking about how I love my health, the Sun, my girlfriend, my car, my guitars, this blog, my creativity, breathing, walking, the Marx Brothers, and California.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is playing in the background:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you believe in magic don't bother to choose&lt;br /&gt;If it's jug band music or rhythm and blues&lt;br /&gt;Just go and listen it'll start with a smile&lt;br /&gt;It won't wipe off your face no matter how hard you try&lt;br /&gt;Your feet start tapping and you can't seem to find&lt;br /&gt;How you got there, so just blow your mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do You Believe in Magic?"&lt;br /&gt;The Lovin' Spoonful&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6174775715923945521?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6174775715923945521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6174775715923945521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6174775715923945521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6174775715923945521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/things-you-love.html' title='The Things You Love'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1418266712095532050</id><published>2012-01-11T00:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T00:14:35.801-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Value</title><content type='html'>It's good to be aware of your value. You're the main thing in your life. Without you, there's no possibility of anything else in your life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I've discovered from working with hundreds of people is that they themselves often take second or even last place to their things. Once you've lost your place as the main thing in your life, you lose your sensibilities and necessary sense of worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why when I work with people, I listen to their voice as the authority so they can revalue themselves. I ask, "Do &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; like this, or can &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; let it go?" because I want them to reclaim their importance in their living space. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our stuff has the benefit of ads and marketing to pump them up. Ads make products seem amazing, as if they are infused with divine energy. We learn to value things over ourselves. But our stuff isn't more valuable than us. It's there to serve us and that's it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take some time to notice your importance in your home. It may seem odd at first because we are so stuff centered. But try seeing yourself as valuable. Not for what you do, or say, but for who you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine you are a gem in the setting of your home. Feel your shine. Is there anything in your life space that is diminishing your brilliance? How valuable is something that shrinks and clouds who you are? Are you ready to remove this thing?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1418266712095532050?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1418266712095532050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1418266712095532050' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1418266712095532050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1418266712095532050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/your-value.html' title='Your Value'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3823981910938633431</id><published>2012-01-10T00:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T00:31:25.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Want To</title><content type='html'>I was helping my client clutter bust her files. She was finding a lot of papers that involved some kind of activity that she wanted to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Making bath salts, I want to do that." "Oh, this is about a class where they teach you how to dance, I want to do that." "This has important information, I want to read it." She wanted to keep these papers and put them back in the file. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pointed out that earlier on in our conversation she said that she was stressed because her plate was full. She complained that she was so busy, she had no personal down town.  At the same time, she had a large amount of "Want tos." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our minds can easily think of more things than we can actually do. It takes seconds to think of something, but actual hours of doing. Our mind gets frustrated that we can't do it all. I also think we sometimes imagine we want to do new things as a distraction from being overwhelmed, which adds fuel to the fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She could relate to this and agreed to let go of some of the want tos. But then she came across a flyer for a course on learning to help trauma victims. I think she was relating unconsciously to this one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "You want to do it, but will you actually sign up, pay for the course, show up for the classes, and find the time in your full days to help trauma victims?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She let out a sigh and said, "Right now I've got enough that I'm doing." She sounded grounded and whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in Los Angeles for the next few weeks. If you'd like to set up a clutter busting session with me while I'm town, email me at brooks@clutterbusting.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3823981910938633431?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3823981910938633431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3823981910938633431' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3823981910938633431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3823981910938633431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/want-to.html' title='Want To'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-4246021255418232698</id><published>2012-01-09T10:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T11:28:39.335-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving Ourselves a Break</title><content type='html'>We get stuck in clutter when we are disconnected from ourselves. By disconnect, I mean we are disassociated from our feelings. If often comes from being overwhelmed. This makes us incapable of taking care of the things in our environment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing we can do is get some rest, and take time away from the things that are over-involving us. It can give us the fresh perspective we need. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since we're disconnected from ourselves in the moment, it can be hard to notice what we need. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent last week finishing up the final edit of my new book, Clutter Busting Your Life and sent it off to my publisher. I loved writing the book, but it used a lot of me up. I was pretty tired. I tried writing my blog last Friday but none of my ideas were coming together. I tried again on Saturday, and it felt flat. I was feeling frustrated, and then I realized I was tired and was better off resting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went for a leisurely hike in the desert, and took a good soak in the tub. Then I played a board game with my friends that I'm staying with. And then I went to bed early. I got up this morning and felt like a new Brooks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here I am, writing to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-4246021255418232698?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/4246021255418232698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=4246021255418232698' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4246021255418232698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4246021255418232698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/giving-ourselves-break.html' title='Giving Ourselves a Break'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6199517828514488233</id><published>2012-01-05T14:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T15:22:41.695-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nobody Speaks to You Except for You</title><content type='html'>The main tool in clutter busting is questioning. We're asking what's the value of the things in our lives. "Do I love and use you, or can I let you go?" If you don't ask, then chances are you're living with some things that hinder you and get in the way of your peace of mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked yesterday's phone client to describe the things in her bedroom. She told me about books she had stacked on the nightstand and floor next to her bed. I suggested we go through the books one at a time. She was apprehensive because they were self-help books and she needed help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encouraged her to give it a try. She picked up the first book. It was a book about "becoming a better you." I asked if she read the book and was it helping her. She made a groan and said, "I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;tried&lt;/span&gt; reading it, but I couldn't make myself read it anymore." I asked if she could let it go. She said, "I don't think I can, I need the motivation." She sounded exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that everyone has a different way of being inspired. Some people are motivated by books. Some are motivated by a speaker or a coach. Others are encouraged by the lives of others. Some are inspired from within. I said the evidence points to her not being motivated by books. They made her tired and discouraged. It sounded like she was trying to motivate herself into reading them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client said, "I've self helped myself into my self-confidence being gone. These books tell me something's wrong with me. They feel like a demand to me. 'Live life to the fullest!' That's a lot of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;work&lt;/span&gt;. 'Love New Beginnings!' That means I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to love new beginnings. I just want to enjoy my life." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said it sounded like her self-help books were clutter. Her inspiration came from within. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "Is that okay?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "Nobody speaks to you except for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She let the books go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6199517828514488233?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6199517828514488233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6199517828514488233' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6199517828514488233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6199517828514488233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/nobody-speaks-to-you-except-for-you.html' title='Nobody Speaks to You Except for You'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-9094125842412793337</id><published>2012-01-04T13:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T14:17:14.096-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting Go of What Used to Make Us Happy</title><content type='html'>Some of our clutter used to not be clutter. At one point it was a part of our lives. We enjoyed it. It served us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But things change and it lost its importance. It became clutter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can be hard to let these things go because we remember that it once made us happy. We like being happy. We're programmed to seek out happiness. But our attachment to memories of what made us happy, and physical holding on to the actual thing, causes us pain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I was a teenager and learned Transcendental Meditation. I loved meditating. It brought me great peace of mind. I even went to a college where the students and faculty practiced TM. But after I graduated, I stopped enjoying this meditation. I kept meditating though because a part of me didn't want to notice my change of heart. After a few months of slogging through my meditations, it became too painful and I had to let it go. I felt a tremendous relief. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's okay to let go of something that once took care of us. We honor ourselves and the thing (job, person, activities, lifestyle, residence, way of seeing things) by letting go of what doesn't fit us emotionally and physically anymore. It gives us the space to enjoy something that fits us now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-9094125842412793337?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/9094125842412793337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=9094125842412793337' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/9094125842412793337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/9094125842412793337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/letting-go-of-what-used-to-make-us.html' title='Letting Go of What Used to Make Us Happy'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-4022913511114972334</id><published>2012-01-03T12:40:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T13:34:32.652-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Asking Yourself</title><content type='html'>Today's phone client wanted help with her clothes. She felt overwhelmed with the piles of clothes all over her bedroom and in her stuffed bedroom closet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggested we go through her clothes as if she were shopping today. What would she buy and take home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She picked up the first item and said, "I would never buy these overalls. I don't like overalls." She let them go. She selected a jacket and said, "I don't know what I saw in this. It's got to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was on a roll. It's inspiring to put yourself first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tried on some clothing just like she would do at a store. This is a good technique to try at home. She realized some of the clothing no longer felt good to wear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while she shared a realization. "I keep things because I must think they're valuable. I ascribe value to everything. But they're not all valuable."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-4022913511114972334?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/4022913511114972334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=4022913511114972334' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4022913511114972334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4022913511114972334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/asking-yourself.html' title='Asking Yourself'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-8589905195606932525</id><published>2012-01-02T11:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T15:17:26.807-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiding Places</title><content type='html'>Closets tend to be out of sight, out of mind spaces. Lots of things can be stored in the closet, often hidden behind or mixed in with other things, some of which we use, but often a lot of which we don't. The deeper the closet, the more hiding spaces. The door closes and we forget what's in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not completely. We still "know" the stuff's in there by the anxiety and entropy that's created from living with things we don't need anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's client clutter busted three of her closets. She was tentative at first. That's what the stagnant feeling does to us. But with encouragement, she ventured in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was amazed at the amount of things she no longer needed. She said:&lt;br /&gt;"It's been seven years since I used this, I think I can let it go."&lt;br /&gt;"Here's another thing I've never used." &lt;br /&gt;"I just don't need it. I'm not using it." &lt;br /&gt;"I forgot I even had this in there. I don't even like it anyway." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She came across some card making supplies. At one point, she really wanted to make greeting cards. She bought the supplies with high hopes. But she only used them a couple of times over the years. And when she used the card making supplies, she found them to be messy and difficult. I pointed out that it sounded like they weren't part of her life. She said, "But I spent a lot of money on this." I said that happens now and then. But the main thing to notice is that she didn't like using the card supplies. She'd have more peace of mind by letting them go. She got it and let go of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She let go of boxes of products that were no longer under warranty, old electronics, clothes she didn't wear anymore, books that she wasn't reading, exercise DVDs she wasn't watching, a large amount of Starbucks coffee mugs given to her as Christmas presents (still in the gift boxes), old linens and towels she wasn't using anymore, VHS movies, and cassettes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were done, she said, "I don't want to hide things anymore. I want everything out in the open."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-8589905195606932525?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/8589905195606932525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=8589905195606932525' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8589905195606932525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8589905195606932525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/hiding-places.html' title='Hiding Places'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3155594735860286482</id><published>2011-12-30T11:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T11:36:45.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Time</title><content type='html'>These next few days are ours to look around and see what we want to take into 2012 and what we want to leave behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to pick and choose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we forget our power and become resigned to our stuckness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we start to look around and begin to make decisions, our strength comes back to us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything gets better when we take care of ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best of luck to you in 2012!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3155594735860286482?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3155594735860286482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3155594735860286482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3155594735860286482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3155594735860286482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/our-time.html' title='Our Time'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3715820067264485600</id><published>2011-12-29T11:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T12:20:55.207-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting go of the burden of the future</title><content type='html'>We can't help but want certain things to happen in our lives. We're built that way; we're built to have desires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's the average everyday desires like, "I'm hungry" or "I'm tired." Then there's the desires in which you want something particular or special to happen. The above-and-beyonds. They usually involve something very special personally or professionally. Sometimes they can even seem fantastical. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was talking with my girlfriend. She had wanted to get this particular professorship at a really great college. She applied for it and it turns out they're not going to hire her. She's feeling kind of down about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were talking about how it's really normal to have those desires too. We can't prevent ourselves from thinking that way, and why would we want to? The hard part is that when those desires don't happen, we feel hurt. There's loss about not having gotten something that our hearts and minds wanted for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the flipside of that loss is great freedom. My girlfriend says that "the burden of the future is lifted. The weight of having to make things turn out a certain way has fallen away, which is like the feeling of letting go of clutter." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's more space in the future, like when we let go of a piece of once-loved furniture. When we stop trying to prevent ourselves from being hurt, we have a chance to experience the openness of a *real* and powerful possibility. Not getting what we want opens us up to the infinite ways in which the future could unfold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like our minds have this idea, "I need this particular thing. Nothing else can do it for me." Because our minds are limited, we can't think of millions of other possibilities that could be just as or even more satisfying to us. Maybe just being open to those ideas can give us some relief and help us not try to control the world so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3715820067264485600?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3715820067264485600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3715820067264485600' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3715820067264485600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3715820067264485600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/letting-go-of-burden-of-future.html' title='Letting go of the burden of the future'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5325433272818389156</id><published>2011-12-28T12:13:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T12:32:25.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Packing for 2012</title><content type='html'>This sounds so corny, but the end of a year is a great opportunity to really look at your life. You're right smack in the middle of your life, so you can look around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can look at the people in your life, the things that you do, things surrounding you in your home...you can even look at your body and the way it feels and how you treat it. And you can say, "Alright, this is my life. What do I want to do with it? It's mine to choose."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Going into 2012, which of these things do I want to bring with me, and which do I want to leave behind or let go of?" We can actually make that decision. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is there a way that I treat myself that's not really supporting me, that I don't want to bring with me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are there people in my life that I no longer connect with, that I don't need to drag along with me?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are there things, as I look around the room right now, are there things that I just don't want to carry with me into this next year?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If I'm packing to go on a trip, what do I want to pack to bring with me into 2012?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of these things may have been brilliant to us in the past; really treated us well. But perhaps some of them don't now. Again, I come back to that it's really our right to choose. It's our life. And our life really appreciates it when we take care of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody else knows better than you. You're the expert. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what stays and what goes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5325433272818389156?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5325433272818389156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5325433272818389156' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5325433272818389156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5325433272818389156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/packing-for-2012.html' title='Packing for 2012'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1472704955256464650</id><published>2011-12-27T12:56:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T13:21:58.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Changing Course</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AlQVYcjtqYE/TvoMienolHI/AAAAAAAAAcY/MT25iXOMhoM/s1600/IMG_1573.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AlQVYcjtqYE/TvoMienolHI/AAAAAAAAAcY/MT25iXOMhoM/s400/IMG_1573.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690874865610429554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to let go of what used to fit because it felt really good when it fit. Even though it doesn't fit now, the memory is pretty strong. Sometimes memories can overtake what we're currently feeling, but it's hard to live in memories. It takes a lot of energy to animate the memories, the life we're currently living in suffers, and as a result we're not taking care of ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What helps is to notice when we start to become uncomfortable. That's the sign that what used to fit isn't fitting anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I was a kid and my shoes started hurting my feet, because my feet got too big. I still wore my shoes a little bit past the time they hurt, probably because I liked my shoes. But then it was too much. I'd tell my parents, they'd get me a new pair of shoes, and I'd be happy to toss the old pair, because of the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I try to stay alert to when things start to not feel good. I've been in Phoenix for a couple weeks, but I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. Like it's time to move on. Lately I'm feeling like moving up to the Sedona/Flagstaff area because the air is cleaner than in Phoenix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a part of me that doesn't want to -- I have an image of myself as a vagabond. That's uncomfortable, there's something vulnerable about change. I'd rather seem more solid. "Here I am, this is what I'm doing." I think that has to do with how I want people to see me. The thing is, I just want to do what's best for myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole thing of living in the Southwest for the winter is different from how I've lived before. I told myself I'll keep looking for a city I can live in that feels comfortable to me, for my job as a clutter buster and health-wise; to support me feeling good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole trip was based on a strong intuitive feeling that Chicago wasn't feeling good because of the cold dampness, and I felt strongly to come to the Southwest. By being in different cities, I'm trying on different shoes. I'm walking around different stores to see how they fit. It's nice being in the shoe store because I'm taking care of myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1472704955256464650?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1472704955256464650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1472704955256464650' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1472704955256464650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1472704955256464650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/changing-course.html' title='Changing Course'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AlQVYcjtqYE/TvoMienolHI/AAAAAAAAAcY/MT25iXOMhoM/s72-c/IMG_1573.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-319202565258471863</id><published>2011-12-23T00:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-23T00:15:58.847-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gift of Taking Care of Ourselves</title><content type='html'>I thought it was going to be a quiet week, but suddenly a lot of people contacted me to book clutter busting phone sessions. I love to work, so it's been very enjoyable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was helping a woman go through her jewelry. At first she was very resistant. She said it would be too much of a hassle because the jewelry was spread out through many drawers, closets, and counter tops. But I pointed out the tiredness and tension in her voice, and she got it that living with her jewelry strewn about was hard on her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She went through each piece of jewelry. I asked her if she still wore each item, or was she tired of it. It was obvious when a necklace meant something to her. She gave an immediate and strong yes. But when she hemmed and hawed about some earrings, or mentioned how much she spent on them, or talked about how much she used to love wearing them, I pointed out that there was no passion in her voice. She got it that it was time for the earrings to be donated so someone else could enjoy them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she had finished going through all her jewelry she sighed through the phone. I pointed out how relieved she sounded. I congratulated her on how well she took care of herself. She was touched to think of it that way. We often get ignored in the midst of our busy days. It's the kindest action to take care of ourselves.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to wish you all a happy holiday time, today through...I was going to say new year's day, but I figured why not today through the rest of the days of your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-319202565258471863?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/319202565258471863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=319202565258471863' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/319202565258471863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/319202565258471863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/gift-of-taking-care-of-ourselves.html' title='The Gift of Taking Care of Ourselves'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3853970542030768674</id><published>2011-12-22T00:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T01:08:58.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Developing a New Habit</title><content type='html'>My client said his desire to hold on to things that weren't serving him felt superstitious. He was talking about papers in his filing cabinet. He said he knew he didn't need certain papers, but a part of him felt that if he let them go, something bad would happen. He didn't even know what that bad thing could possibly be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he clutter busted on his own, he would hit this fear wall, and give up. He felt badly that he hadn't been able to do this on his own. He wondered why his mind worked this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that particular superstitious way of clutter busting was an old habit. It's how he used to try and do it. There was no need to feel badly about himself. Sometimes we develop ways of doing things that work against us. But this is a new moment. It's new because we see that our old way of doing things isn't working. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggested we try a new way. I had my client go through each paper in his files individually. I asked him, "Is there an actual need for this piece of paper, or can you let it go?" He came across a paper from an old job, and he was afraid to let it go. He said he worried that he might need to refer to it in his current job. I asked how long he'd had the paper. He said five years. I asked him if he'd referred to it in that time. He said no. He paused and then let it go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said a kinder new habit was starting to grow in him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3853970542030768674?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3853970542030768674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3853970542030768674' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3853970542030768674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3853970542030768674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/developing-new-habit.html' title='Developing a New Habit'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5277231565129213142</id><published>2011-12-21T00:15:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T01:04:49.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Maybe"</title><content type='html'>I was talking with a client today about getting stuck with a "maybe." She said when she likes something, it's an easy yes. When she doesn't like something, it's simple to decide to let it go. But then there are the things where she is uncertain. They become maybes, and she uncomfortably hangs onto them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybes are no. They are clutter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It becomes hard for us to see this because we get caught up in and attached to the emotions we feel about something and this shuts down our deciding mechanism. We get frustrated with ourselves because we think we should be able to make a decision. But emotions are more powerful than our intellect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It helps to look more closely at what's going on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of us says, "I don't need this." Another part says, "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;But&lt;/span&gt;...what if I need it?...what if I change my mind?...what if someone else needs it?...my sister gave it to me and I'm worried she might be upset at me." The emotions behind the "but" are fear based. They are not based on what's happening. We're worrying about what &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;might&lt;/span&gt; happen. By hanging on to this thing, we are hanging on to the fear. Living that way is hard on us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's worth noticing, and spotlighting, is the part of us that doesn't want this thing, the part of us that is uncomfortable with keeping it, the part of us that sees this thing is not a part of our life. Making decisions from this feeling gives us the peace of mind that hanging on to something out of fear can never give us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5277231565129213142?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5277231565129213142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5277231565129213142' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5277231565129213142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5277231565129213142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/maybe.html' title='&quot;Maybe&quot;'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-400197313726845454</id><published>2011-12-20T00:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T00:36:12.588-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Putting Our Comfort First</title><content type='html'>We deserve to be comfortable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clutter creates discomfort. It's difficult to live with things that don't fit us emotionally and physically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we hang on to things because we think we should be comfortable with something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see this often with the books that clients own. They want to hang on to a book that they're not reading, or are struggling to get through because other people have said it's a must read. I keep them coming back to their experience of not actually enjoying the book. You can't fake comfort. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other times we hang on because it used to fit us physically and emotionally. We have happy memories of the comfort the thing once brought us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was working recently with a client who wanted to hang onto bags of her now fully grown son's toddler clothes stored in her basement. When she talked about the clothes, her voice changed to the high-pitched sing-songy sound of a mother talking to her little one. She also seemed sad. I pointed out the sadness. She thought about it. She realized she was sad because she didn't want to admit her son was grown up. Then she noticed the clothes were frayed and they smelled mildewy. She let them go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can get used to not being comfortable. It can seem normal to us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why we look and ask, "Do I like this now? Am I using this now? Would I buy this today?" This helps us find what makes us uncomfortable. "I really don't care for this. It's a distraction in my space. It irritates me. I want it out of here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our personal comfort is worth the effort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-400197313726845454?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/400197313726845454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=400197313726845454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/400197313726845454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/400197313726845454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/putting-our-comfort-first.html' title='Putting Our Comfort First'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-8511819015787856085</id><published>2011-12-19T00:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T00:26:31.768-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Away From Your Stuff</title><content type='html'>It's so quiet here. I'm staying with some friends on the outskirts of town in Phoenix. The silence is good because it's helping me recharge. Working with clients, and working on the book, and getting over pneumonia, and traveling took a lot out of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like going out by myself and walking through the deserted desert. It's just me and the cactus and desert shrubs. I think people here are so used to the open desert, they have no desire to explore like I do. It reminds me of the empty beaches when I used to live in Los Angeles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my basics with me. My suitcase full of clothes. My guitars. A file of important papers. A few framed pieces of my art. And a handful of books. It all fits nicely in my car. The flexibility this allows helps me to get quiet on the inside. It's my monk time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we all need some quiet time. Time away from the computer, cell phones, TV, and even our home. The world doesn't encourage this introspection. But by being too noisy inside and out, we end up becoming reacting machines. It becomes hard to notice what parts of our life we love and the parts we don't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm working with clients, I'm aware of how they've worn a groove into their current life. It's been so long since they've stopped and stepped away and taken a fresh look. There is an initial resistance because the momentum of constant going is hard to stop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the stepping away, whether it's leaving your life for a day, a weekend or longer, creates the space so you can see what you love and nourish it. And see what's lost its appeal and needs to be removed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-8511819015787856085?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/8511819015787856085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=8511819015787856085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8511819015787856085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8511819015787856085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/time-away-from-your-stuff.html' title='Time Away From Your Stuff'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5565022407081821974</id><published>2011-12-16T00:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T00:29:18.248-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Helps Us Clutter Bust</title><content type='html'>Out of nowhere, I had a feeling to submit my headshot and try and get an acting agent again. It's been a number of years. An agent in town said she was interested and asked me to come by. I did. It was a terrible audition. I'm not good at pretending I like a product. I'm pretty lousy reading something off of paper and acting spontaneous. Suddenly, I remembered how much I didn't care for that old lifestyle. It was a nice reminder that I did the right thing leaving that behind a ways back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doubly wonderful thing that happened right after this was one of the people whose home I'm staying at in Phoenix is a teacher and she invited me to come in and entertain her forth grade kids for twenty minutes. I came in the next day with just my guitar and an open mind. I had a blast making up stories. I got the kids involved in coming up with songs. We all had a great time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The contrast between these two experiences was palatable and exciting. It made me realize it's the contrasts that make life a rich stew. The crappy things I live through make the nice things stand out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also realized that life itself has a big hand in the clutter busting process. Life has a way of illuminating the clutter so it becomes very obvious to me. The pain of trying to do something that doesn't fit me becomes very clear and matter-of-fact . I used to think it was a cruel aspect of life because it was painful. But now I see it as compassionate. Life cares and wants to help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5565022407081821974?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5565022407081821974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5565022407081821974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5565022407081821974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5565022407081821974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/life-helps-us-clutter-bust_16.html' title='Life Helps Us Clutter Bust'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7281884666615538933</id><published>2011-12-15T01:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T02:03:46.537-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Body Never Lies</title><content type='html'>When we're feeling stressed and overwhelmed, when our body aches and is exhausted, our body is telling us its truth. Not in words. Words can be manipulated. But the sensations we feel in our body are the truth. The body lets us know we're unhappy, we're tired, we're doing something we don't care for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The body is a an accurate and dependable gauge. It's the chief instrument used in clutter busting. When we ask, "Do I love this anymore, or can I let it go?" we're asking the body. Does our stomach tighten, do we grit our teeth, is our breathing shallow, do we feel hot, do we hold our throat or head, are we nauseous, do we feel tired? This is the body saying, "No, I don't care for this anymore. Let it go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's two weeks left to 2011. This is a time to start looking around and asking our bodies what we no longer need in our lives. It's cleaning up after the event of 2011. It's a powerful way to tend to ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To thank you for reading and supporting my blog this year, and to encourage you to let go, I'm offering my phone clutter busting services next week for a very special rate. From December 18th through the 24th, my phone clutter busting rate will be $50. You can email me at brooks@clutterbusting.com to set up a session.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7281884666615538933?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7281884666615538933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7281884666615538933' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7281884666615538933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7281884666615538933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/body-never-lies.html' title='The Body Never Lies'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1098727150186035381</id><published>2011-12-14T00:04:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T01:03:32.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Off Target</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F3Hei_525DQ/TurfKghpwiI/AAAAAAAAAcI/M4v4fzZkLzM/s1600/IMG_1496.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F3Hei_525DQ/TurfKghpwiI/AAAAAAAAAcI/M4v4fzZkLzM/s400/IMG_1496.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686602851131441698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Super Target to replace my friend's pot that I burned the day before. The store was actually called "Super Target." It was the size of a small city. The store could have held a stadium. The parking lot was vast. The funny thing was, there were only about two dozen cars parked in the lot. So the store was mostly empty of people.  It was just a lot of products sitting around waiting to be bought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The area that caught my eye were the racks of plastic organizing bins. Their tag line was, "PUT A LID ON CLUTTER." The store was basically telling people, "Do you know those annoying pesky things that you don't use anymore but can't figure out what to do with? How about hiding them?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The storage bins end up being trash cans that are never emptied. You have to keep buying more of these storage trash cans to take care of all that bothersome stuff. I know because I've seen this principle in action when I've gone to clients homes. They've spent lots of money to hide things they no longer use or care for in these bins, which are then hidden in closets, under the bed, in the garage, basement, or in a storage locker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the crappy part is my clients end up feeling just as overwhelmed as they did when the unused and uncared for stuff was free-ranging it all over their home. As long as the stuff is in a person's home, it's going to make them feel chaotic and lethargic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The solution is not in making things appear to disappear. The answer is taking the time to remove what we no longer need or care for. Instead of hiding, we uncover, and take an honest look at what's in our home. If we don't love it, we remove it from our home. This gives us a feeling of peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1098727150186035381?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1098727150186035381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1098727150186035381' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1098727150186035381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1098727150186035381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/off-target.html' title='Off Target'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F3Hei_525DQ/TurfKghpwiI/AAAAAAAAAcI/M4v4fzZkLzM/s72-c/IMG_1496.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1505133778801695316</id><published>2011-12-13T00:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T00:32:54.052-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Waking Up from a Trance</title><content type='html'>Someone wrote in the comment's section, "I was overtired and made the mistake of staying up, then started browsing things for sale on the internet, and ended up buying supplies for a craft I used to do but don't really anymore...I used to love it but lately it has lost its luster for me. I went to bed and I lay there thinking "why did I buy them?" and I realized that I really don't have the desire to do that craft anymore, so it was like my brain went haywire for half an hour there, lol."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to happen. Even though we know how to spot and remove clutter, we're going to now and then buy something we don't actually need. It's programmed into our being to search for stuff when we're feeling out of sorts. Because we were tired, sad, lonely, confused, or mad, we automatically searched for something to distract us from these feelings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We often realize what we've done right after the buying. The clutter trance is gone and we can see clearly again. If we can, it helps to be nice to ourselves after an incident like this. We may think we could've helped it, but we couldn't. It happened and now it's over. What we can do for ourselves is return the item. Or if we can't, we can donate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we learn a new red flag from this experience. "When I feel tired, or depressed, and I want to shop, I'm going to take a nap or go for a walk instead." Or maybe we just learn to be nice to ourselves when we do something silly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I was feeling out of sorts being in a new city. I didn't sleep well last night. I was feeling lonesome. It was raining. I didn't understand that my friend's electric stove top heats up faster and more intense than a gas stove, and I burned some potatoes, destroying the pot in the process, and making the house I'm staying at smell like smoke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got in my car with these dour experiences resonating inside me. (Unnoticed red flag!) I went shopping for groceries and bought potato chips, chocolate, and figs. Foods that tend to make me edgy, and certainly aren't grounding. I got halfway through the chocolate and realized this was fuel to the fire. The trance was over. I stopped.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove out to the desert and went for a long walk. I felt my strong sense of self return. That's what I was looking for all along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1505133778801695316?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1505133778801695316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1505133778801695316' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1505133778801695316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1505133778801695316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/waking-up-from-trance.html' title='Waking Up from a Trance'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3876113607271129530</id><published>2011-12-12T00:13:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T01:09:00.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Experiencing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eetOv5GiZ5A/TuWZ2sDDhVI/AAAAAAAAAbs/910F0tAm0yg/s1600/IMG_1477.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eetOv5GiZ5A/TuWZ2sDDhVI/AAAAAAAAAbs/910F0tAm0yg/s400/IMG_1477.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685119269441078610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While walking through the desert hills of Phoenix this weekend, I loved spotting cactus. I'm mesmerized by these spiky wild looking trees! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me think that what's most satisfying is to truly experience something. We're present with the experience. There's a connection. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the experience of seeing a really good play, movie or concert. There was nothing but you and the event. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything that's in our life began with an experience. There's the moment we first saw it. It captured our attention. We wanted to continue this experience, and we brought it home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some experiences stay experiences. They remain exciting and interesting to us. We are in love with these things. I feel this way about my guitars. Every time I play them, I can't believe I'm so lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other times the experience of this thing over time loses some of its luster for us, though it still remains useful. We continue to have a connection with this thing. For me, this is my iphone. It's no longer exciting, but it makes my everyday life a lot simpler.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With most things, there's a point when the connection with the experience wears off altogether. We don't use it. We don't notice it. It lives as part of a pile, a file, in a box or storage locker, in the back of a closet, or it's lost somewhere in our homes. We are too distracted by things that are still strong experiences to notice or do any thing about this other stuff.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When clutter busting, we're looking for those things that are no longer actual and true experiences for us. That's why I encourage asking, "Do I use this? Do I love this? Is it part of my life? Would I buy this if I were in a store today?" We're looking to see if our experience of this thing is alive in us. Or if it's gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We want to notice and remove the things we no longer have that experiential connection with because they make us tired, irritable, and uncomfortable in our own homes. When they go, we are that much more present for the things we love, and for what takes care of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3876113607271129530?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3876113607271129530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3876113607271129530' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3876113607271129530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3876113607271129530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/experiencing.html' title='Experiencing'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eetOv5GiZ5A/TuWZ2sDDhVI/AAAAAAAAAbs/910F0tAm0yg/s72-c/IMG_1477.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6928225119100549103</id><published>2011-12-09T01:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T01:56:15.234-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Re-Connecting</title><content type='html'>The source of holding on to clutter comes from feeling disconnected from ourselves. By ourselves, I mean that most basic part of who we are. Not what we do, or how we imagine ourselves, or what we wish we were, or how others see us. It's that silent basic-ness that's been with us since the day we were born. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lose touch with that basic-ness as we grow up. We're taught that we are defined by what we do and what we own. We can't help but place our sense of security in these things. This makes us hold on tight. But our feeling of well-being ends up taking a hit because what we do and own comes and goes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember as a kid, watching my mom and dad have an intense argument over money. They were saying mean and cruel things to each other. I wondered why they chose to sacrifice being kind to one another and side with their fears. They both sounded so scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lose touch and we hold on. And because we've lost touch, we don't have the clarity to see that we're holding on to things that are not helping us. We isolate ourselves from what can actually help us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What helps is noticing what we've lost touch. It's valuable when we feel tension in our body, and become aware that our mind is going haywire. These are red flags indicating that in some way we are attached to something that is not serving us. Noticing our reactions helps us come back to ourselves. It's calming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was stuck in traffic. My first impulse was, "This is bad." My body tensed up. I became aware of my reactions. Things got quieter. Then I thought, "Well, I don't have to be anywhere. It's nice sitting in my car. It's quiet in here. The cushion on my seat is cozy." I saw some birds fly out of a tree. I felt like &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; is enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6928225119100549103?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6928225119100549103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6928225119100549103' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6928225119100549103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6928225119100549103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/re-connecting.html' title='Re-Connecting'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-8172603384980495692</id><published>2011-12-08T01:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-08T01:24:48.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"I'm seeing what got me here."</title><content type='html'>My phone client told me about her large magazine collection that was taking up space on her bookshelf. She wasn't reading the magazines. But she didn't want to throw them out because, "What if there's something important in them that I need to read?" There was anxiety in her voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that it's important to see how we actually live. There's what we tell ourselves what we'd like to do. And there's what we actually do. Our life as we live it is a great guidepost. We're going to enjoy our lives more if we live with the things we love and use, undistracted by all the things we don't truly care about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client began looking through the magazines. She told me she was starting to realize how much energy having these magazines in her home was draining from her. Every time she walked past the bookshelf, she was reminded of something she wasn't doing and it was making her feel guilty. She said, "I'm seeing what got me here. Enough is enough!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tossed the magazines in the recycling bin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-8172603384980495692?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/8172603384980495692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=8172603384980495692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8172603384980495692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8172603384980495692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/im-seeing-what-got-me-here.html' title='&quot;I&apos;m seeing what got me here.&quot;'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7988244441264198526</id><published>2011-12-07T01:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T01:10:46.719-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Discovering Our Needs</title><content type='html'>How much do we need? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By need, I mean what makes us feel good. What satisfies us? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our mind is insatiable, so it can't honestly answer the question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer comes in looking at what regularly takes care of us. What do we encounter that leaves us feeling stronger, happier, and peaceful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel taken care of when I play guitar, hang out with my girlfriend, write stories, and see a well-made movie. I don't feel good when I hang out on the internet, when I'm inside the house too much, and when I go to parties. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It helps to see what actually does the trick. Otherwise we tricked into buying and doing things because the marketing and current societal thinking makes us think others know us better than we know ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I visit a client's house, I get the sense that they've lost track of what takes care of them. They've acquired a bunch of things that aren't making them happy. I know they'll feel better when they eliminate the stuff they don't actually care about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like a doctor making house calls. But I end up helping the clients diagnose themselves. When it comes down to it, we know what's best for ourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7988244441264198526?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7988244441264198526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7988244441264198526' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7988244441264198526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7988244441264198526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/discovering-our-needs.html' title='Discovering Our Needs'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5051884642146237497</id><published>2011-12-06T00:47:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T01:30:11.567-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Releasing the Parking Break</title><content type='html'>Trying to live your life with clutter is like driving with the parking break on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's frustrating because you can see it happening. The clutter is there. It's thwarting you from doing what you really want to do. But you can't let the clutter go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing to do is realize this situation is bigger than you. If it wasn't, it wouldn't be a problem. By bigger, I mean it's more than you can handle in the moment. You're feeling overwhelmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I get to a client's house, they often find themselves overwhelmed in a situation they feel they should have been able to handle. Their involvement with the frustration is what keeps them from finding a way to release the parking break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I help them with the frustration by speaking gently and without judgement. It's calming. The involvement with the situation begins to cease, and an openness takes its place. This means the client sees the clutter as it actually is, stuff that's no longer useful to them. When it's matter-of-fact, they can do something about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you find yourself stuck in the frustration, begin to notice that the frustration itself is clutter. A part of you is thinking you should be able to do this, even though you can't. It works against you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It helps to just be with the uncomfortable feeling. Trying to avoid it tends to perpetuate it. I know, I've tried. I found I could never run far or fast enough from pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The frustration of living with the clutter may be intense, but with whatever awareness we can give in the moment, we find the pain starts to fade. As it evaporates, you'll find more of yourself available to take care of the problem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5051884642146237497?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5051884642146237497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5051884642146237497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5051884642146237497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5051884642146237497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/releasing-parking-break.html' title='Releasing the Parking Break'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5870616272526884992</id><published>2011-12-05T01:36:00.021-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T15:24:18.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Insights from Joshua Tree National Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P8tfM3hSSFI/Tt0oU3HI6aI/AAAAAAAAAao/8aQkf7Qj6f8/s1600/IMG_1423.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P8tfM3hSSFI/Tt0oU3HI6aI/AAAAAAAAAao/8aQkf7Qj6f8/s400/IMG_1423.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682742643667823010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What blew me away about the desert was that the space and the things in it felt alive. The trees and the rocks and the small plants and the ground itself felt aware. I felt like they were saying hi to me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the thought that it's possible to feel the same way in our homes. By becoming so sensitive to our living spaces, we notice what doesn't fit and remove it. Through this sensitivity, we create a space where everything in the room feels right to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a radical idea to treat our places with such specialness. But I think we're all tired enough of living with chaotic spaces, that transforming our homes into sacred spaces is becoming something we're naturally moving towards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I moved into this room at my friend's house three weeks ago, I moved things into the closet that I didn't care for. I put up my paintings on the walls. I set out my guitars. I put my comforter on the bed. As I look about the room, my guitars smile at me. My paintings wink. The bed lovingly supports me as I type you this blog post. Even though I'm temporarily staying here, I feel like my living space appreciates me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We deserve to live in a space that loves us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5870616272526884992?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5870616272526884992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5870616272526884992' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5870616272526884992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5870616272526884992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/insights-from-joshua-tree-national-park.html' title='Insights from Joshua Tree National Park'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P8tfM3hSSFI/Tt0oU3HI6aI/AAAAAAAAAao/8aQkf7Qj6f8/s72-c/IMG_1423.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6508337439322209314</id><published>2011-12-02T12:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T12:39:48.513-05:00</updated><title type='text'>BE BIG!</title><content type='html'>Our nature is expansive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like we're mini universes, and we're constantly expanding. We're learning new stuff about ourselves, the world, and our relationship with this world and we want to try doing new things. What limits us is our attachment to the past. That means our old ideas and our beliefs about the world, what we think is right and wrong, and what the world tells us we should do and not do, as well as trying to please our parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can get tangled up in all that stuff and really lose perspective, and we become small. We physically and psychically shrink, and it hurts. I've been learning, by being on my Southwest trip, about being expansive. It helps being out in the wide open spaces. They encourage my expansive thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel myself looking into my heart and seeing that same expansiveness within there. I want to support that feeling. So I've been finding that I've been making choices that involve really taking care of myself, and it makes me happy. And I'm discovering that it's a daily thing. It isn't that we or I expand and then that's it; it's a daily looking within and expanding out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question I ask is, "Here I am today. What's going to take care of me today? What's going to nurture me today?" I listen to the answer and set that as the guidepost of the day. And I notice the things that come up that are resistance to doing that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the clutter; that's the restrictive element; the tangles. When those come up, question them. Ask "Do I need this any more, or can I let this go? Is hanging on to this going to support me today or can I let it go?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I'm going out to Joshua Tree with my girlfriend for the weekend, and I'm taking care of myself. It feels good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6508337439322209314?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6508337439322209314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6508337439322209314' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6508337439322209314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6508337439322209314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/be-big.html' title='BE BIG!'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2913239496936574294</id><published>2011-12-01T01:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T03:11:58.934-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling My Way Through</title><content type='html'>Tonight I'm writing from Los Angeles. I'm on week three of Let's Live in the South-West for the Winter. I'm certainly enjoying the warmth, and all the extra sunlight. I might be moving out to Arizona soon for even more sunshine. After living the past three winters in Chicago's icebox, I would move right inside the Sun if I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprising circumstances took me down the side road of where I find myself this evening. I was thinking about how it's impossible to know the future. Yet most of our decisions are made based on the future we suppose will be happening. We do what we think is best, and then life happens, sometimes disregarding our plans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm finding that clutter busting is a way to live with the surprises life continually brings my way. Having that openness allows me to see that things have changed, and the old way of doing things no longer fits. A ways back I would try and hang onto what was crumbling. Through sheer will I thought I could overcome nature. Oh, that was frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually that strong hold on to what no longer fits becomes painful. The pain is the indicator that it has to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm staying lose out here. I'm seeing where my next step feels good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2913239496936574294?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2913239496936574294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2913239496936574294' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2913239496936574294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2913239496936574294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/12/feeling-my-way-through.html' title='Feeling My Way Through'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6317857557977162426</id><published>2011-11-30T01:03:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T01:30:56.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Okay to Be Nice to Ourselves</title><content type='html'>I recently worked with a client in his bedroom. He had a tall bookshelf right by his bed. Just asking him about it made him grimace and breathe in quickly and hold his breath. The body doesn't lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He opened up about it and said that he sees the books every night before he goes to bed and it's a constant nagging and chastising reminder of all the books he hasn't yet read. He'd go to bed feeling terrible. He'd been living with this bully by his bed for years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him if he'd like to go through the books. He said he wasn't sure. I said if there were racoons by his bed instead, he would immediately be on the phone with the exterminators. He got it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went through the books. He let go of a good amount. And then he put the ones he wanted to keep in the downstairs bookcase. I talked with my client today and he said that he'd been having amazing nights sleep every evening since. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can sometimes allow ourselves to remain in a painful situation that we can do something about. If we saw it happen to someone else, we would want to help them. But there's something about our culture that makes it okay to let ourselves suffer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been in that situation sometimes myself too. I'll endure some uncomfortableness that I don't question. And then suddenly a feeling comes in, "Dude, you don't need to be doing this." The insight is a light-shiner. "Oh, yeah. I don't." And I immediately do something about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't need to chastise ourselves for this habit. The best thing we can do is recognize we're uncomfortable and readjust our lives so we're feeling good again. It's okay to be nice to ourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6317857557977162426?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6317857557977162426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6317857557977162426' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6317857557977162426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6317857557977162426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/its-okay-to-be-nice-to-ourselves.html' title='It&apos;s Okay to Be Nice to Ourselves'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2954843983563194409</id><published>2011-11-29T01:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T01:17:07.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Removing the Source of the Problem</title><content type='html'>When we're emotionally stuck in one area of our home and life, it has a way of shutting down the rest of our living space. But if we take the time and honestly consider whether this thing is truly a part of our life or not, we give ourselves the opportunity to take back our space. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I worked with a client whose basement made her so uncomfortable she didn't even want to go down there. So down in the basement we went!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a massive desk with papers, office supplies and boxes piled on top of it. Books were jammed in a bookcase. And there were amplifiers, guitars in cases, wires, and mic stands, in a pile on a square rug. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed that she seemed intimidated by the bookcase. So I asked about the books. She said she wrote a lot of them, and the rest were research books she used to write her books. But she didn't want to write that particular kind of book anymore. Plus, writing them took up all her time and she had nothing left over for her music. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I invited her to go through the books with me. Initially, it was painful for her to consider. But once we started with the first book, she was able to think clearly enough to know that she didn't want that book anymore. Then we went on to the next one. She thought about it and saw that her heart wasn't into that book either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirty books gone later, she told me about a new book idea that would require much less time, and excited her. She showed me a notebook full of notes for that book. I had her put this in the space where the old books used to live. Then she told me she had some pictures and symbolic stuff that inspired her for writing this new book. I had her get them. She put these things in the space. She was practically dancing now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because she was now more open to seeing what didn't fit, she said she wanted to let the desk go. She bought it thinking she would use it. But she hadn't, and stuff was gathering on it. She said she would have someone pick it up later that week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she started eyeing her musical equipment. So I suggested we set up her music area. We took the guitars out of their cases and plugged them into the amps. This way, they were ready for her. All she had to do was flick the switch on the amp. We also set up and plugged in the mics. She was beaming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got an email from her today that said, "I'm really enjoy the lack of of my old books on those shelves! It is very freeing. And am loving the music space. I'm down there every day now for some musical R&amp;R!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2954843983563194409?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2954843983563194409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2954843983563194409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2954843983563194409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2954843983563194409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/removing-source-of-problem.html' title='Removing the Source of the Problem'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-455243935605175485</id><published>2011-11-28T01:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T01:57:31.929-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering What Matters</title><content type='html'>I was looking around my room today and I saw my two guitars. I felt myself getting irritated. I was surprised because I love playing guitar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked into the feeling and I realized I'd been busy the past few days and hadn't played my guitars. I was upset that I let some less important things take up my playing guitar time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sat down and played each guitar. It made me happy. I felt taken care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's easy to get lost in insignificant things. I appreciate being reminded of what I care about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-455243935605175485?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/455243935605175485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=455243935605175485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/455243935605175485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/455243935605175485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/remembering-what-matters.html' title='Remembering What Matters'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5686393137062098128</id><published>2011-11-25T15:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-25T15:36:17.694-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What We Like Doesn't Remain Constant</title><content type='html'>I was thinking about how what we like doesn't remain constant. What we need and like in one moment, we won't in another. But our minds remember the liking and enjoyment and assume it will always be there. That contributes to holding on to something that no longer serves us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I worked with a client by helping her go through her cookbooks. She didn't want to go through the books because she assumed she liked them all. I suggested she give it a try. We went through one book at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when I asked her, "Are you using this book to cook your meals?" she would immediately and vibrantly say, "Yes!" But with other cookbooks, she paused and got a distant dreamy look. I'd ask her again. I felt like I was calling to her from down a tunnel. She would say, "Well, I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;used &lt;/span&gt;to cook with it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that this particular cook book was making her weak. She was remembering how it used to be a part of her life. She was off in the past. It's hard to be grounded when we're not here. She saw the effect these books were having on her, and she let them go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed the same effect when I started reconnecting with old friends on facebook. Initially I felt exhilarated as my mind would flood with positive memories. But I never felt present with these feelings. I felt distant and tired. It was nice to say hi, but I didn't feel these relationships were a part of my life anymore. It was a relief to not try and hang on to them anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5686393137062098128?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5686393137062098128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5686393137062098128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5686393137062098128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5686393137062098128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/what-we-like-doesnt-remain-constant.html' title='What We Like Doesn&apos;t Remain Constant'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-556727546303295364</id><published>2011-11-24T03:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-24T22:27:43.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wY1O6ihD7R4/Ts38wzcrkII/AAAAAAAAAaQ/FZSVfAPIo8Q/s1600/IMG_1383.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wY1O6ihD7R4/Ts38wzcrkII/AAAAAAAAAaQ/FZSVfAPIo8Q/s400/IMG_1383.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678472620558487682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful that you are reading this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's because of your interest in what I have to say about clutter that I'm in this wonderful situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This job is the gift that keeps giving. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to stay open to writing positive and uplifting ways out of and through clutter situations that speak to you and encourage the letting go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks again for your support.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-556727546303295364?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/556727546303295364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=556727546303295364' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/556727546303295364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/556727546303295364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/thanks.html' title='Thanks'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wY1O6ihD7R4/Ts38wzcrkII/AAAAAAAAAaQ/FZSVfAPIo8Q/s72-c/IMG_1383.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2907028542708862343</id><published>2011-11-23T01:22:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T02:37:06.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Alive</title><content type='html'>"I find that to be alive is the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;goodest &lt;/span&gt;thing there is. And the reason it's so good is it's so bad to be dead." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard that from Norm MacDonald's standup comedy recording, Me Doing Standup. It's funny because it's true. We may grumble and get caught up in the bumps in life's road, but we've got a constant good thing going in being alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But awareness of being alive is in the background for us most of the time because we're always alive. We usually only notice things when there's a contrast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had pneumonia last January. I felt for the first time that I might lose my life. Suddenly I had no awareness of the little things that bothered me. I was aware that I liked being alive and I wanted to preserve that experience.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, my feeling of aliveness has been much more constant. There's a feeling of vitality in being alive. It feels like a force. A lot like electricity. Plus I feel a closeness with the life force. It feels like it's me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bring this up because a big part of clutter busting is letting go so we can notice and enjoy the things we love. We lose what's been distracting us from our life. We begin to feel more present. It's that sense of presence that's our life force.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2907028542708862343?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2907028542708862343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2907028542708862343' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2907028542708862343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2907028542708862343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/being-alive.html' title='Being Alive'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6443508857175765085</id><published>2011-11-22T01:03:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T01:53:35.849-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Phoenix</title><content type='html'>My client was feeling badly about a job she used to have a few years ago. She had a lot of negative memories about her old workplace. They bothered her so much that she didn't want to get another job. She was unemployed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was filled with anger and regret for having worked at her former job. Even though she was no employed at that company, it felt like a deep part of her was still there. I think she was trying to protect herself with the anger, but this was keeping her connected to her experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pointed out how she was hanging on to the old experience and it was exhausting and damaging her more than her initial experience at the job. Her emotional connection to these memories was clutter.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got it. She said that she wanted to let go by having a fire ceremony. So we gathered together all her old business cards, and various papers from her previous job and we took them outside to her fire pit. We crumpled the papers and then set them on fire. She was so pleased to see them burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said the flames were burning up her old life, and they were releasing her into her life now. That's actually the mechanics of clutter busting. When we let something go, we release our attachment and connection to something that's no longer serving us from the past, and we &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;become&lt;/span&gt; present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6443508857175765085?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6443508857175765085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6443508857175765085' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6443508857175765085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6443508857175765085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/phoenix.html' title='The Phoenix'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5885952642076749005</id><published>2011-11-21T02:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T02:28:39.479-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting Go and Receiving</title><content type='html'>Trying to fill the feeling of emptiness with stuff is impossible. It's like putting things into a jar that's upside down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know because I've tried. I bought and went after things that I thought would make me happier or better. I never even questioned what I was doing. I saw other people doing the same thing. It seemed normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Occasionally I had a quiet underlying feeling of, "This isn't going to work." For a while I could ignore that whisper because the ambition for more was so seductive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But over time, the unhappy sense, the echo of the emptiness got louder. It was at this point that I knew that nothing I obtained would drown out the hollowness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when I started shedding the things I'd acquired that weren't making me happy. It was easy because my possession of them now seemed like a burden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received such a deep sense of peacefulness as I let go of the clutter. In a backwards way, I got the feeling that I was after when I was chasing things to try and feel better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I became aware that the only thing that was going to make me happy was a connection with myself, and from there, a connection with the things I naturally loved, like art, writing, nature and my kind-hearted friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5885952642076749005?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5885952642076749005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5885952642076749005' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5885952642076749005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5885952642076749005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/letting-go-and-receiving_21.html' title='Letting Go and Receiving'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1933308628694301300</id><published>2011-11-18T12:48:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T16:34:20.975-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Personal Day</title><content type='html'>Today is my day off. I'm not driving across a state, or working with a client. It's Brooks time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time off is golden. I feel myself recharging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My girlfriend told me, when we take care of ourselves, we take care of the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS...here's a link to a good magazine article written by someone who attended my &lt;a href="http://www.yogachicago.com/nov11/decluttering.shtml"&gt;clutter busting workshop.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1933308628694301300?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1933308628694301300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1933308628694301300' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1933308628694301300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1933308628694301300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/personal-day.html' title='Personal Day'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-586226264168461266</id><published>2011-11-17T02:29:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T03:12:19.339-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Simple Warning Signs</title><content type='html'>Yesterday's client showed me two full bags of mail. She said dealing with the mail was a great burden to her. She felt getting and dealing with the mail was an intrusion in her life. The mail bothered her so much that she didn't even want to take the mail out of the bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I took the mail out and and put it in small stacks on a table. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said there are indicator lights in life that tell us when we are overwhelmed. We can see it in our over-reaction to what's usually a very simple thing. It's nature's way of giving us a warning sign. It's like the check engine light in our cars. "Hey, you need to stop and take care of yourself." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client was exhausted. She was living beyond her emotional and physical means. She saw the mail as the problem. But her reactions to her mail were warning her that she'd used herself up and had nothing left. They were the messenger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held up a letter. I said this envelope is telling her things would be so much easier if she took some breaks during the day. Kind things she could do for herself would be just as valuable as any actions she felt were important and needed to get done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up a manila envelope. I said that this one was telling her it's okay to take a walk outside and not be on her computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said when I'm tired, really simple things suddenly become problems. I might find myself getting upset at a seat belt that won't latch. Clicking a seat belt is the simplest thing in the world. It's not a problem. Being tired and pushing myself is a problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to regularly live past our emotional and physical means is clutter. The simple warning signs are kind gestures. They are on our sides.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-586226264168461266?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/586226264168461266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=586226264168461266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/586226264168461266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/586226264168461266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/simple-warning-signs.html' title='Simple Warning Signs'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7369951769950460262</id><published>2011-11-16T01:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T01:39:22.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking Our Time</title><content type='html'>My client said, "I'm taking too long to let go. I shouldn't be so slow. Something's wrong with me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her who she was talking about. She was surprised and said, "Me! I'm terrible. Be honest with me, am I your worst client?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said I still didn't know who she was talking about. She laughed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her I didn't see her that way. I saw her as someone who was dismantling the clutter structure she'd slowly built up in her home. It takes time to consider each thing. She was listening to her feelings. She was seeing what helped her and what hurt her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The clutter built up in our lives because we got overwhelmed and lost touch. But it's not our fault. We weren't wrong or bad. And when we get the inner strength to decide to do something to help ourselves out with this clutter situation, there's no time limit of when it should be done. Part of the healing is taking our time. Most of us aren't used to doing that. But we're learning that we're worth the effort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7369951769950460262?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7369951769950460262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7369951769950460262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7369951769950460262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7369951769950460262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/taking-our-time.html' title='Taking Our Time'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-851559254193760483</id><published>2011-11-15T02:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T02:34:35.239-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Removing What Intimidates Us</title><content type='html'>Yesterday's client had a pile of papers on her office floor. They had been gathering there for months. She was too overwhelmed to face the papers individually, so everyday she would add to the pile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sat down on the floor next to the paper mountain and invited her to join me. I like to get my clients to jump right in. It gets them out of the pain of avoidance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was difficult for her to sit next to the papers. They were like a snarling dog. So I handed her one piece of paper to consider. That was easy for her. We do better if we just focus on one thing at a time, and ignore the rest . I asked her if she needed the paper or not, or did she need to take action on the paper. She was able to make a decision. We kept this up, piece by piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually we reached the source of all the paper clutter. We came upon a stack of papers that represented a book she was working on. She hadn't touched the manuscript in six months. She turned pale and unconsciously gripped her hand around her throat. I told her what she was doing. She was surprised to find her hand on her throat. I said it meant she felt like the book was choking her. I like to gauge how a person feels about things by their body language. The body doesn't lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her to take her hand off her throat. I asked her to tell me about the papers. She said the top stack of the papers were criticisms of her book from a writing class she took. Underneath them was the book. I asked her to remove the criticisms from the manuscript and set them away from her. She did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're not inspired by criticism. It's the most common form of motivation. But it has a way of making people freeze. Kind encouragement is the best motivator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her to hold her book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her how she felt about the book now. She said positive and she was open to writing again. She told me out of the fifteen critiques, one was supportive and had some positive pointers in how to strengthen and make the book even better. I asked her to pick out that critique. She did. I asked her to place it next to her book. She looked at them both and said she felt ready. She was sitting up straight. She was emanating strength.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-851559254193760483?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/851559254193760483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=851559254193760483' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/851559254193760483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/851559254193760483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/removing-what-intimidates-us.html' title='Removing What Intimidates Us'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5920758646299796333</id><published>2011-11-14T02:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T12:11:12.967-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Meditation</title><content type='html'>This weekend I worked with a woman in the meditation area in her home. There were a lot of items on the alter table and on the bookcase. I said since meditation is meant to create peace of mind, we would ask of each item if it was supporting her with peacefulness or distracting her with chaos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first item was a picture of a guru that she used to follow. Even though she was no longer interested in him as a teacher, she felt guilty for wanting to let his picture go. I said that it wouldn't serve her or the guru to hold on to something that was making her suffer. She let it go. Then she found a necklace with the teacher's image on it. She said it was supposed to promote peacefulness. I said when we describe an item, rather than say we like it, that means it's no longer a part of our life. She got it and let it go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She found a stone that had the word "peace" etched into it. I asked if she liked it. She said "No," and hesitated and said, "But it says peace in it." I said sometimes we want to hang onto something because we find ourselves defending what it's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;supposed&lt;/span&gt; to do for us. But all we care about now is how it &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;actually &lt;/span&gt;makes us feel. She got it and let the stone go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we came upon some packs of meditation cards on the bookcase. She said she had purchased the cards because people had told her the cards were very spiritual. I asked her whether or not she used and enjoyed each deck of cards. When she looked at each deck from this perspective, she realized she didn't have a connection with the cards, and let them go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up next were the spiritual books. The books filled up the bookcase, and some were in stacks on the floor. She seemed overwhelmed by their presence and didn't know where to start. I suggested she gently consider each book and see if it made her calm or anxious. That made it seem doable to her. Most of the books ended up going into the donation pile. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were done, there were just a handful of items that she loved in her meditation space. A few books, stones, a candle, a small painting, and her meditation chair. I had her sit, and I asked her how the space made her feel. She closed her eyes, smiled and softly said, "This is really nice."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5920758646299796333?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5920758646299796333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5920758646299796333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5920758646299796333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5920758646299796333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/meditation.html' title='Meditation'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2192453765379353420</id><published>2011-11-11T12:06:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T19:43:52.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Let Go of in the Desert</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x-ztmheFiWI/Tr1ZGypIb0I/AAAAAAAAAZc/cvWDZDCVunQ/s1600/IMG_1347.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x-ztmheFiWI/Tr1ZGypIb0I/AAAAAAAAAZc/cvWDZDCVunQ/s400/IMG_1347.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673789078765072194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this picture because it sums up discarding a distracted part of myself by the side of the road. It's an old part of me that liked to sit on the sidelines of my life, being critical of what's happening. I noticed it while driving and taking a look at what goes on in my mind. That voice fit me like a size too small shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8J8x0IFPj0s/Tr1bXrSCDaI/AAAAAAAAAZo/BJAZf1Q8O54/s1600/IMG_1342.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8J8x0IFPj0s/Tr1bXrSCDaI/AAAAAAAAAZo/BJAZf1Q8O54/s400/IMG_1342.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673791567870168482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like this plant. I found it in the Painted Desert. It felt like it adapted itself to the environment by being flexible to the elements. It encouraged me to relax and let go of of all the changes that are happening with this move. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--4py_GSU0Kk/Tr1cgQFckdI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/-DPRc5tdkSw/s1600/IMG_1359.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--4py_GSU0Kk/Tr1cgQFckdI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/-DPRc5tdkSw/s400/IMG_1359.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673792814700073426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this rock. It sat in the space and felt right at home. It's not worrying that it's sitting at an angle differently than the surrounding stones. I found myself letting go of the need to be other than I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2192453765379353420?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2192453765379353420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2192453765379353420' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2192453765379353420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2192453765379353420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/things-i-let-go-of-in-desert.html' title='Things I Let Go of in the Desert'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x-ztmheFiWI/Tr1ZGypIb0I/AAAAAAAAAZc/cvWDZDCVunQ/s72-c/IMG_1347.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5069966969553354995</id><published>2011-11-10T10:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T11:39:23.029-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Open Space</title><content type='html'>I like open space. It relaxes me. As I was driving south through New Mexico yesterday afternoon, I loved looking out over the desert. The openness soothed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about how we are encouraged to fill up our living spaces to capacity. We are constantly presented with opportunities to acquire, bring home, and add to our collection. But living that way doesn't make us feel better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned from experience that when we let go of the things we don't actually care for, and we live with the new open space amidst the things we love, we are happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't mean we have to have all the clutter gone to feel better. Even a little open space goes a long way. When I'm working with someone who has no open space, and they let go of a few things, I ask them to notice the space they created. When they do, they tell me that it feels good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5069966969553354995?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5069966969553354995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5069966969553354995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5069966969553354995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5069966969553354995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/open-space.html' title='Open Space'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6465069753118839671</id><published>2011-11-09T12:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T12:24:11.351-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Closer</title><content type='html'>I've been visiting old friends as I drive across the big old USA. It's been nice to reconnect. It reminds me that relationships are tangible things. The connection I have with others is as real a thing as my shoes, my car and the computer I'm typing on now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the unity experience is the best possible feeling. Not just with people, but with land, stuff we love, and things we love to do. As the clutter goes, it's easier to notice and appreciate these connections. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A feeling of unity with another, or a thing, or place is an abstract thing. We can't see that feeling. And we get distracted from them by our clutter. But I've seen a lot of couples and families become closer as they clutter bust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without the distractions, we also become closer with ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Denver. I'm looking out the window at the bright blue sky. I feel close with the mountains in the distance. There's a cactus by the sidewalk that's saying hi to me. My heart feels warm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6465069753118839671?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6465069753118839671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6465069753118839671' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6465069753118839671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6465069753118839671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/closer.html' title='Closer'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6813523662564558534</id><published>2011-11-08T07:58:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T08:54:19.374-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Simply</title><content type='html'>I'm driving through Iowa this morning. I like the simplicity of the freeway. There's just the road, the trees, the land and the sky. It's simply sweet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think sometimes we think we've been trained to think that a life without a lot of things is less and lacking. But the simplicity of a clutter busted space is full of vitality and presence. We gain more on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The simpleness is also soothing. We don't get tangled up. We aren't constantly being distracted. There's the space we live in, the things we love, and ourselves. We feel taken care of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6813523662564558534?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6813523662564558534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6813523662564558534' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6813523662564558534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6813523662564558534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/simply.html' title='Simply'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2705985867520331338</id><published>2011-11-07T08:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T09:16:59.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seeing Clearly</title><content type='html'>Yesterday my girlfriend helped me clutter bust in preparation for my drive across the USA today. I wanted to travel light so I asked her to ask me about all my things so I'd only bring stuff that was part of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were going well until I came across a contact lens. It was a special hard lens that I wasn't wearing. My first thought was that I had to hang onto it because when I wore it, I saw better. But because it was painful to wear, I never actually wore it. I was hanging on for a reason that wasn't serving me. On top of that, it had cost my $450. I could feel that I had stepped into the clutter bear trap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because she knows how this works, my girlfriend saw this clutter red flag. She kept asking me, gently, until I realized I was never going to wear this contact lens. And as long as I hung onto it, even though I wasn't wearing it, it would bother me. So I let it go. It was difficult for a few minutes. And then I felt a strong sense of relief. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here I am. All packed and ready to go. I'll write to you this week from the road.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2705985867520331338?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2705985867520331338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2705985867520331338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2705985867520331338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2705985867520331338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/seeing-clearly.html' title='Seeing Clearly'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3415908886823829695</id><published>2011-11-05T00:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-05T00:49:03.788-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Digging for joy</title><content type='html'>I think of clutter busting as digging for joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're rooting through our stuff, going through piles, and tossing out things that just don't fit anymore. But the whole purpose behind it is to be happier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage this perspective of digging for joy with clients because there's often a great fear on their part that it's going to hurt. There's going to be pain in the letting go, and that becomes foremost in their thoughts. Actually, that's what kept them from starting in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there's going to be some feelings of roughness during the process; some strong emotions felt, some sadness, some anger. But behind that and supporting the whole process is the feeling of relief. That relief is the joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage you to take some time for yourself this weekend and do some digging for joy in your stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3415908886823829695?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3415908886823829695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3415908886823829695' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3415908886823829695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3415908886823829695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/digging-for-joy.html' title='Digging for joy'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7166868604629844491</id><published>2011-11-03T12:03:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T00:13:35.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying to Stop the Flow of Time</title><content type='html'>I love writing these blogs. But I never know what to write until I start typing. Clutter busting is not a thought out process for me. It happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I'm thinking about how the things in our life come and go. People, stuff, situations, ideas. Even our bodies come and go. We are born, and one day (hopefully not soon) we'll die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What causes us pain is the holding onto something that wants to go. When something no longer fits us, it's ready to go, even if we aren't ready to release it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a friend whose husband was an alcoholic and often mistreated her. But she was doing everything she could to keep the relationship intact. One night he wanted to go to a bar and get drunk. She tried to stop him by jumping onto the hood of his car as he drove out of the garage. Luckily she safely slid off as he pulled away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of us refuses to see that change is happening. We automatically blur or blind ourselves to it. We're invested in the memories of when our relationship with this thing was good. Or we see only our hopes and dreams of what we wanted this thing to be. We're trying to live a fantasy amidst reality. No wonder we get so tired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noticing we are doing this helps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found when I'm resisting change, I feel a tension on my heart or stomach. We hold on through our emotions, and these reside in our bodies. I find it helps to close my eyes and put my attention on the feelings of frustration there. For some reason, quiet attention is like a lullaby. I can feel those places calm. From here come insights that encourage me to befriend and move with what's changing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7166868604629844491?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7166868604629844491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7166868604629844491' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7166868604629844491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7166868604629844491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/trying-to-stop-flow-of-time.html' title='Trying to Stop the Flow of Time'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-4098038469552191276</id><published>2011-11-02T12:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T13:11:35.463-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Loosening the Grip</title><content type='html'>When we know that something isn't serving us, but we can't let it go, a deep and hidden part of us is clutching to this thing. Maybe the grip is fueled by fear, sadness or anger. Many anxieties may have come together to make us hold on tight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we don't need to know the ingredients behind our reason to hang on. We can recognize their collective force. We can feel the heat it generates in us as if we were near a fire. We can imagine the shape this tension is making in our bodies. We can notice the energy it's taking from us to maintain our grip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I work with a client, I look for their unconscious hold on clutter. I notice the strain in their body. I see the toll it's taking. And I ask them to notice too. It's the seeing that allows this tension to unravel. It's what helps clients let go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was helping a client with a box of papers in her garage. She didn't want to look. She complained that her head and stomach hurt. She stared down and wouldn't look me in the eyes. I told her that all these symptoms were the physiology of her tight emotional embrace to what was in the box. It wasn't a joyful hold. It was fueled by deep unconscious tensions whose presence brought her no benefits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her I sometimes feel the same way when I go through financial paperwork. The tension makes me not want to do it. But it's more painful for me to live with this stuff undone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her recognition of this experience in herself made her open up to taking a look at what was in the box. I encouraged her to go through and consider one piece of paper at a time. She still felt her symptoms, but there was enough of a distance from them that they didn't side track her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-4098038469552191276?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/4098038469552191276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=4098038469552191276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4098038469552191276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4098038469552191276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/loosening-grip.html' title='Loosening the Grip'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5810088268636390889</id><published>2011-11-01T10:23:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T12:38:59.237-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting Go of Panic</title><content type='html'>When our feelings get involved with something that is no longer serving us, we are tangled up in drama. We become enmeshed and lose our boundaries. We forget the dividing line between ourselves and the thing, and we suffer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I helped a client through a situation like this yesterday. She was feeling a great deal of panic. She was re-actively stoking the fires of the dilemma by repeating the same panicked thoughts. She and the chaos clutter were one. So I gently encouraged her mind away from the distress, down a quieter pathway. I helped her consider other kinds of thoughts that were supportive of her situation. Sometimes she went back the other way. So I reintroduced the possibility of simpler solutions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know how to do this because I do it for myself. When I become aware that I'm hanging on to a way of thinking that's hurting me, I see the damage it's doing, and I disengage from the fight. I know from experience that if I continue provoking the situation with anxiousness, it gets more painful. Once I let it go, an openness takes over. Out of that comes a solution that actually helps me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5810088268636390889?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5810088268636390889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5810088268636390889' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5810088268636390889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5810088268636390889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/11/letting-go-of-panic.html' title='Letting Go of Panic'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2334703082312556498</id><published>2011-10-31T09:40:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T12:38:09.354-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Life's Wardrobe</title><content type='html'>Our things make up the clothes our life wears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does our stuff, the things we do, and the people in our lives fit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get so used to wearing these clothes that we think they are us, that they are parts of us. And even if one of these things is causing us discomfort, we hang onto it because of the intimate association. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I encourage asking, "Do I like this, or can I let it go?" because it helps us see that our things aren't us, that they are here to provide us pleasure and take care of us, or we shed them like a shirt that no longer fits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently helped a client clutter bust his kitchen pantry. He was resistant at first, even though he complained that this part of his home gave him a headache. The resistance felt like he was connected to what was in there, which caused him to try and protect the stuff, even though it was hurting him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as I began asking him about each item of food in the pantry, the connection broke, and this gave him distance to see with clarity that the majority of the food in there was old and didn't fit his tastes and life now. He put this food in some boxes and bags to take to a local homeless shelter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2334703082312556498?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2334703082312556498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2334703082312556498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2334703082312556498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2334703082312556498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/our-lifes-wardrobe.html' title='Our Life&apos;s Wardrobe'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5340054543155803200</id><published>2011-10-29T11:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T11:46:01.757-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Conundrum</title><content type='html'>I said, "My head hurts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor said, "That's because it's in a vise. I advise you to loosen and remove the vise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "But I spent a lot of money on the vise."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor said, "Now my head is starting to hurt."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5340054543155803200?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5340054543155803200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5340054543155803200' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5340054543155803200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5340054543155803200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/conundrum.html' title='Conundrum'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2738939098568069511</id><published>2011-10-28T12:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T13:35:26.641-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Final Say</title><content type='html'>Whatever is in our life, but isn't a vital and supportive part and piece of what we are now, exhausts us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my clients was a manager who often wouldn't let herself take bathroom breaks at work. She felt there wasn't enough time. That taking the time would cause her work to suffer. So she held it in. As a result, she was frazzled, anxious, and worn out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she saw how the weight of this clutter was affecting her work, her well-being, and her life outside work, she dropped this "time-saving" self-deprivation, and began to go to the bathroom whenever she needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is "sacred" enough to stay in our lives and hurt us. When we discover that something isn't serving us, our word goes. We have the final say.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2738939098568069511?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2738939098568069511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2738939098568069511' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2738939098568069511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2738939098568069511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/final-say.html' title='The Final Say'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2558564005024372444</id><published>2011-10-27T11:17:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T12:25:45.048-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking a Look Inside</title><content type='html'>Last night I lay in bed and felt anxiety in my stomach. I looked to see if it was about something. But there was nothing specific. Then I thought it was residual nervousness. Something(s) that I was anxious about in the past, had come to the surface like a burp. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the thought to watch some TV so I could avoid this uncomfortable feeling. But I figured it would still be there afterwards. So I lay there and watched the nervousness instead. It danced across and in my belly. It was ricocheting. It went from a pain to a tickle. And then I fell asleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up, my stomach felt better. I thought about how we have things in our body as well as in the space around us. All day long we experience a multitude of thoughts, sensations, moods and emotions inside of us. Because they come and go so quickly, they can seem insignificant. But I think they affect us as much as what's in our environment. It's worth taking the extra look inside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2558564005024372444?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2558564005024372444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2558564005024372444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2558564005024372444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2558564005024372444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/taking-look-inside.html' title='Taking a Look Inside'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7146201648336358748</id><published>2011-10-26T10:18:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T23:26:25.663-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What We're Capable of Doing</title><content type='html'>My client went through her winter clothes. As she was going through piece by piece, she told me she was feeling badly about problems that she was having in her life. She felt she wasn't doing enough to help herself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wasn't the first time we'd worked together. Previously she'd gotten rid of a large amount of stuff in her kitchen. Another time she cleared out and donated a huge amount of books she wasn't reading. At a different time she let go of and donated bags and bags of spring and summer clothes that she no longer wore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pointed out all this work that she had already done. I said the best way to help ourselves is in amounts we are capable of in the moment. Usually when we're overwhelmed, we want all the pain to go away right now. We think we need to come up with a solution that eliminates our problem in one fell swoop. But those solutions don't exist. I'm sure there are books or people out there that promise that. But we're not engineered that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told my client that we take care of ourselves by approaching our situations with little steps. Little doesn't mean insignificant. Little means doable. What we are capable of at the moment. This action takes us out of our thinking mind, that has us lost in the daunting and overwhelming details of what were stuck in, and puts us in our doing mind, which over time gets the job done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client's mind settled down. Her obsessing was over. She went back to going through the winter clothes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7146201648336358748?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7146201648336358748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7146201648336358748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7146201648336358748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7146201648336358748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/what-were-capable-of-doing.html' title='What We&apos;re Capable of Doing'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5899436431020928350</id><published>2011-10-25T10:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T11:42:09.561-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Decisions</title><content type='html'>Yesterday's phone client was feeling out of sorts her home office. She wanted to read and be creative in this room. But it was filled with so many books, magazines and boxes of random stuff, that she couldn't think straight. I said that we would go through each thing and decide what's serving her and what can go.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "I don't like making decisions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that she makes decisions at her job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client said "At my job I get things done, but at home I let my stuff pile up, and I can't use my space."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that her job is to enjoy her life. She can bring the principles of focus and decision making into this room so she can enjoy this space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said, "But, I have so many interests, and the things in this room support those interests."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that when things pile up and aren't used, even if we want to use them, our homes become stagnant. Suddenly any value from these things is gone, and they cause us harm. Because these distractions make us feel lousy, we go and buy more things that distract us with excitement. The high is temporary. The new stuff adds to the other crap and we end up feeling even worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client said, "The thing is, I don't have enough lifetimes to read all the stuff I stored in this room."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said the only thing we are concerned with is finding the things she can do and enjoy now, and let the rest go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you hear that? I'm tossing all my old magazines."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that it was a beautiful noise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wrote me a nice testimonial:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I contacted Brooks Palmer for help with a room that was jammed with things I never use but could not bring myself to thin out. We accomplished more in a two-hour phone session than I had done during several previous solo attempts. I highly recommend working with Brooks, whose gentle but persistent style of questioning helped me acknowledge my instincts to let go. It was not only a decluttering session but personal training in how to think about things, and even activities, that are no longer relevant and just get in the way of "now.""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elizabeth&lt;br /&gt;Salt Lake City, UT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5899436431020928350?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5899436431020928350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5899436431020928350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5899436431020928350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5899436431020928350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/making-decisions.html' title='Making Decisions'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-8123400739450629557</id><published>2011-10-24T10:56:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-24T12:50:16.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Purses and Wallets</title><content type='html'>Here's a quick clutter bust you can do right now. Take out your wallet or purse. Remove all the contents and place them on an open surface. It helps to take things out of their usual environment so you can see them with a clearer eye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an important and helpful exercise because it serves us to have our most commonly used action orientated items clutter free so we can think more clearly in the midst of our day's activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a trash can by your side. Pick up one thing at a time and honestly ask yourself, "Do I need this or can I let it go?" No scrap of paper or plastic goes unchecked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked with a client once whose purse contained a large amount of business cards. Some were hers from a business that she no longer worked for. Others were from people that she no longer had an interest in contacting or hiring. Some were people whose info was in her cell phone. She was stunned that they she hadn't previously noticed that they were all insignificant. She let them go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at coupon, credit card, and driver's license expiration dates. If you find that something's expired and needs to be renewed, immediately make the call for the appointment, or go to the internet and take care of it. Clutter can also be tasks that need to be taken care of but are left waiting. We feel better when we finish things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the keys on your key ring. Let go of any keys that you're not using anymore. It's common that clients will have one or more keys that they no longer need, or they can't remember what they used to unlock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're done, put things back one piece at a time. It helps makes you more conscious of the space itself. Just like us, space likes to be appreciated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-8123400739450629557?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/8123400739450629557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=8123400739450629557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8123400739450629557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8123400739450629557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/purses-and-wallets.html' title='Purses and Wallets'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7689834255763190585</id><published>2011-10-21T11:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T12:23:34.838-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Alive!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WNJcRQxJq5A/TqGYzkXw2wI/AAAAAAAAAY0/y6c1JbE5iiw/s1600/IMG_1297.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WNJcRQxJq5A/TqGYzkXw2wI/AAAAAAAAAY0/y6c1JbE5iiw/s400/IMG_1297.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665977817912892162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we're unobscured, we're mighty. When we're without things to hide behind, we shine. It's a burden to try and hang on to things that were supposed to make us brighter, smarter, sexy, stronger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Underneath all the stuff is an amazing person. Not measured by standards. But by the presence of who they are. I never get tired of seeing people without their clutter. After they let go of all the things that didn't matter to them, they radiate an aliveness that no product in the world can deliver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Painting by Brooks Palmer (c) 2011&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7689834255763190585?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7689834255763190585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7689834255763190585' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7689834255763190585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7689834255763190585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/alive.html' title='Alive!'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WNJcRQxJq5A/TqGYzkXw2wI/AAAAAAAAAY0/y6c1JbE5iiw/s72-c/IMG_1297.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1470717009894327332</id><published>2011-10-20T10:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T10:41:36.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"What if I need it one day?"</title><content type='html'>I was standing with my client amidst the stuff in his living room. Things were laying on top of each other in a variety of topsy-turvey piles. He said, "I know it's a lot, but I never know what I might need."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that if he truly felt that way, then he'd should probably get one of everything that exists in the world, so he can be ready at a moment's notice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He laughed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client wasn't alone in his way of thinking. Many of my clients have told me that they are afraid to let things go because, "What if I need it one day?" But meanwhile they live in a warehouse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to live with so many potential needs. It takes away the focus from our current needs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client said, "You know, the problem with trying to have everything I might need, is I can never find it when I need it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both laughed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1470717009894327332?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1470717009894327332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1470717009894327332' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1470717009894327332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1470717009894327332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/what-if-i-need-it-one-day.html' title='&quot;What if I need it one day?&quot;'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3980458450622966958</id><published>2011-10-19T09:37:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T09:48:12.108-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kinder Option</title><content type='html'>Someone I was working with recently told me that she hated the idea of tossing things out because the stuff would end up in a land-fill. This kept her from even taking a look at the things in her home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that some things could be recycled, and some donated, but, yes, some would end up in a land-fill. But if those particular things stayed in her home, then her home becomes a land-fill. It's either trash in her home, or trash in a garbage dump. The kinder thing to do would be to make her home a clean, beautiful and enjoyable place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She liked this new choice. She opened up and began letting things go.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage my clients to go for the kinder option.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3980458450622966958?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3980458450622966958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3980458450622966958' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3980458450622966958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3980458450622966958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/kinder-option.html' title='The Kinder Option'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-4223252066611106408</id><published>2011-10-18T09:24:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T09:56:02.538-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Clutter Busting Your Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q82PzLjgeX4/Tp1_MlquuWI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/onCHr1hkjZU/s1600/414p5LOR3xL._SS500_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q82PzLjgeX4/Tp1_MlquuWI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/onCHr1hkjZU/s400/414p5LOR3xL._SS500_.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664823760548444514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm showing you a photo of my new baby. This is my new clutter busting book that will be coming out next Spring. I'm a proud parent! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing how these things happen. I didn't intend on writing another book about clutter. But I'm a clutter buster, not a soothsayer. This book came out of all the questions people asked me when I did my book tour. There was a great interest in how clutter affects all of our relationships and how our relationships affect our tendency to hold onto things we no longer want or need. I wanted to share my insights. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing this book has brought me closer to myself and to the people I love in my life. I was able to see and notice things I was hanging onto to protect myself from being hurt by others. I saw that hanging on to this false armor was only hurting me. When I started letting this clutter go, I really felt my heart open up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this book does the same for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To pre-order, click &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Clutter-Busting-Your-Life-Emotional/dp/1608680797/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1318944485&amp;sr=1-3"&gt;Clutter Busting Your Life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-4223252066611106408?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/4223252066611106408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=4223252066611106408' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4223252066611106408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4223252066611106408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/clutter-busting-your-life.html' title='Clutter Busting Your Life'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q82PzLjgeX4/Tp1_MlquuWI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/onCHr1hkjZU/s72-c/414p5LOR3xL._SS500_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1740227787400281987</id><published>2011-10-17T08:53:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T09:18:02.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlights from Saturday's Clutter Busting Workshop</title><content type='html'>Here are some highlights from Saturday's clutter busting workshop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a woman who brought a backpack that she took to work everyday. When I asked her to take a look at the things in the backpack, she groaned. She opened the bag, saw all the papers, and said she didn't want to go through it. I pointed out that this is the usual response when a person first considers letting go of clutter. I said that it helps to be very gentle with ourselves and just look at a few things at a time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took about five sheets of paper from the backpack and gave them to her. I asked her to look at each piece and ask, "Do I need this for my job, or can I let it go?" With a heavy sigh, she began. The amazing thing is, after a few minutes, she didn't need any more prompting. Her natural discriminating abilities kicked in. She looked, asked herself, and in the end about 70% went in recycling. She looked happy. She said she felt so much lighter. I pointed out to the group that it's all about getting over the initial resistance. Then momentum takes over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a man who brought five expensive watches that he used to wear to his old high-powered Wall Street job. He'd hung onto them for ten years. He was feeling resistant to letting go of the watches. I asked if he still wore the watches. He said no. Then he realized that the watches were a status symbol that used to make him feel powerful and important. He said those feelings were no longer important to him and he decided to sell the watches on Craigslist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone had a bunch of old family photos. I asked if they liked looking at pictures. He said he didn't and wanted to start letting them go. Another participant reacted strongly and said, "You can't get rid of those pictures! What if your kids want to look at them some day?" I told her that was her response, not his. It's important to respect what's clutter and not clutter for someone else. She said, "But isn't it important to have the pictures for the kids?" I asked her if she had kids. She said no. I asked if she was planning to have kids. She said no. I said then it's not an actual issue for her. We're better off considering what supports our life and leave it at that. She got it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1740227787400281987?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1740227787400281987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1740227787400281987' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1740227787400281987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1740227787400281987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/highlights-from-saturdays-clutter.html' title='Highlights from Saturday&apos;s Clutter Busting Workshop'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3784553711817001801</id><published>2011-10-14T13:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T13:44:19.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Are You?</title><content type='html'>I was exercising this morning and listening to the song, Who Are You, by the band The Who. It made me think about clutter busting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I really want to know, I really want to know,&lt;br /&gt;Come on tell me who are you,&lt;br /&gt;you, you&lt;br /&gt;are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The impulse behind letting go of clutter is to find out what you really love. You're letting go of what you don't care about anymore to uncover, bring out into the open, and live happily with what you love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In essence you're asking, "Who am I?" Not what ads wants you to be, or society, or the people in your lives, but what you want. What's your nature? What feels good to wear? What do you like to do with your time? Who feels good to spend time with? What makes you happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the urgency in the song, when Roger Daltrey sings, "Come on tell me who are you?!" because it takes an effort to sort through our life and things and go, "Not this, not this, nope, definitely not this, yes...this!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're worth asking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/l_FZVD5lsAw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3784553711817001801?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3784553711817001801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3784553711817001801' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3784553711817001801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3784553711817001801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/who-are-you.html' title='Who Are You?'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/l_FZVD5lsAw/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7273553842571546773</id><published>2011-10-13T12:22:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T13:20:12.649-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Clutter Busting is Editing</title><content type='html'>I'm working on the edits for my next clutter busting book. It's a good lesson in clutter busting. I end up having to cut so many words, sentences and paragraphs to make it a better book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, there's a feeling of, "No, I can't let that go." But then I take a step back and see that the particular sentence doesn't serve the book. So I delete it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It becomes hard to hold on to something when I see that it distracts from what's important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This book will be available in the Spring. I'll let you know more details as it gets closer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7273553842571546773?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7273553842571546773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7273553842571546773' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7273553842571546773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7273553842571546773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/clutter-busting-is-editing.html' title='Clutter Busting is Editing'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-8125805086917316673</id><published>2011-10-12T10:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T11:02:29.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Living Proof</title><content type='html'>My client found her old marriage certificate. She'd been divorced for over six years. She rarely had contact with her ex. But she wanted to hang on to the certificate so she could remember that part of her life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was glum when she spoke of the relationship. She was tired when she held the certificate. She sadly said it was going back in hiding in her filing cabinet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pointed out her reactions, but she still wanted to hang on. I didn't want to push her. When we're feeling stuck, any attempt at force makes us hold on tighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we want to hang onto something because we're experiencing a feeling of loss. Even though we can't get back what we're missing, the artifacts make us feel like we can. But never in a fulfilling way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I asked my client what she liked about the relationship. She said her teenage daughter. Her daughter lived with her. They were close. I could feel my client's heart light up. I pointed this out for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that her daughter was living proof. Her daughter was a positive reminder of the marriage. One that made her happier than a piece of paper tucked away in a filing cabinet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-8125805086917316673?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/8125805086917316673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=8125805086917316673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8125805086917316673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8125805086917316673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/living-proof.html' title='Living Proof'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2242355052432175211</id><published>2011-10-11T11:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-11T12:12:13.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You Like Your Roomates?</title><content type='html'>Everything in our home is a roommate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We share our space with our things. For better or worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It helps to see our companions for what they are. Do you get along with them? Or are they bad roommates?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because something has been with us for a while, doesn't mean it's our friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first started working as a clutter buster, I was stunned to realize many people had a living room that they never went in. It was like a furniture display room at Ikea. They assumed it's what you did. It was illuminating for my clients to see they didn't care for having a furniture showroom in their homes. They claimed the space back for themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's worth looking at your stuff as co-habitators. Do you like living with these things? Or would you rather they move on? It's your home. You won't hurt their feelings if you say no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main thing is, you feel better when you love what you live with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember asking a couple if they loved their bed. They surprised themselves by saying no. They used to think it didn't matter. It was just something they slept on. But it turns out it did matter. Imagine how crappy a night's sleep you get on a bed you don't care for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2242355052432175211?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2242355052432175211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2242355052432175211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2242355052432175211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2242355052432175211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/do-you-like-your-roomates.html' title='Do You Like Your Roomates?'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5716524797522984032</id><published>2011-10-10T12:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T14:21:39.087-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bogus Bark</title><content type='html'>This is about going the opposite way we've been taught. We were raised to think we need more to be happy. It's so much part of our culture that it's rare for us to even question this way of life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is the way we &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; think! We all &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;agree&lt;/span&gt; that our stuff is important."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that contributes to our resistance. It can be scary to go against the grain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's nothing behind this bark. Once we start looking around and saying to ourselves, "Oh, my God, why did I think I needed all this stuff in the first place?" we realize that the supposed need was bogus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just here to get you over the hump. To say that lots of other people have taken the honest assessment of their things, let a lot go, and are now doing much better in their lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're free to start looking and tossing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5716524797522984032?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5716524797522984032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5716524797522984032' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5716524797522984032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5716524797522984032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/bogus-bark.html' title='Bogus Bark'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7601048163573699862</id><published>2011-10-07T11:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-07T13:07:18.931-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Place of Honor</title><content type='html'>Yesterday's client hired me to help her clutter bust the house she inherited a year ago from her uncle who had passed away. She wasn't living in the space because it was filled with her uncle's things. She was intimidated by his stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She would hold up one of his many magnifying glasses and say, "Doesn't this deserve a place of honor?" She had a lost and wistful look in her eyes. She picked up an old container of Morton salt and asked if it too deserved a 'place of honor.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I answered her by saying that she missed her uncle. That's natural. She was close with him. So when she considered letting go of something, she saw it as letting go of her uncle. But he was gone. Nothing in the house could bring him back, and would only keep her in the miserable state. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said the place of honor was reserved for her. It was her home now. By letting go of everything in the space that wasn't supporting her moving in and happily living there, she would be honoring herself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And once she cleared the space and moved in, she could enjoy her uncle in her heart, by happily living in a home that he gave her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This perspective gave her strength and clarity and she was able to start letting go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It helps to see clutter for what it is. Otherwise we get lost and stranded in its mirage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7601048163573699862?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7601048163573699862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7601048163573699862' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7601048163573699862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7601048163573699862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/place-of-honor.html' title='Place of Honor'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6679087101629768261</id><published>2011-10-06T11:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T12:57:33.304-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Creative Living</title><content type='html'>I don't know how to write this one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a feeling I woke up with this morning. The sense that are lives are like art. We're in the midst of the canvas of our life. The only thing we have in front of us is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not in a philosophical way. It's hard to live a concept. Instead, here I am. What do I need now? What can I enjoy now? What feels like a good thing to do? Is there anything that's in the way and causing me pain in some way that I can take care of or let go now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to know that we get to use our creativity to figure out our lives. It's interesting to see what springs out of us in the midst of this moment. It take us out of, "Well, this is how I'm supposed to live" or "I'm worried what people will think if I do this." When we're thinking creatively, we have a lot more possibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing things creatively can give you the confidence to make intuitive and inspired choices. When I work with clients, I ask them what they want, so they can start thinking from a sense of openness. In most cases, they just needed the permission to come alive in this way. We don't need much encouragement to be creative. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creative living is a private experience. You don't have to share it with anyone or get their approval. There's just you in this moment, and what feels right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6679087101629768261?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6679087101629768261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6679087101629768261' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6679087101629768261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6679087101629768261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/creative-living.html' title='Creative Living'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-7022424712626511103</id><published>2011-10-05T12:08:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T17:04:00.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Clutter Hideouts in the Computer</title><content type='html'>I went to check out websites that were under bookmarks in my computer. I saw a long list and felt a strong overwhelming sensation. It was a sense of 'there's too much going on.' My clutter radar went off and I began to delete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let go of websites that I'd saved because I thought I wanted to look at them later. I deleted other websites that I used to look at but didn't anymore. There were a few that I didn't want to let go of because I thought I should look at them. So I went to the websites and tried taking a look, but I wasn't interested enough. So I let those go too. I felt like I was mowing a long overgrown lawn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt inspired to check out the folders on my desktop. I clicked on one folder, and in that was another folder, and, lo and behold, inside of that was an empty word document! The document had a title, and I figured it was something I wanted to write a ways back. But now I had no interest. So I deleted it along with the folders. The amazing thing was, I got the same feeling of relief that I get when I let go of a book or an article of clothing that's no longer a part of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much of computer clutter is invisible to us. It's not sitting out on a counter, or laying on the floor, or obstructing us from parking our car in the garage. It's hiding behind an icon on our desktop. It's hidden away as forgotten photos and videos stored somewhere in our computer. It's old emails we thought we'd want to read again, tucked away in our email account. There are many hiding places. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's worth the look because we use these things a lot. The lighter we can make our experience while using our computers, the easier our lives will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-7022424712626511103?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/7022424712626511103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=7022424712626511103' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7022424712626511103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/7022424712626511103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/clutter-hideouts-in-computer.html' title='Clutter Hideouts in the Computer'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-562601499252760730</id><published>2011-10-04T14:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T14:44:06.757-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Noticing What We Love!</title><content type='html'>While letting go, it's also good to take time and acknowledge those things that do matter to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of what we care about gets ignored because of the clutter. We often can't get to what we love because we are distracted and weighed down by what we don't care about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was working with a couple who were at great odds with one another. There wasn't a nice word exchanged between the two. They reminded me of two dogs barking at one another. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their house was on obstacle course of clutter. I was curious to see what they would be like as the clutter went away. Would they turn out to be clutter for one another, or would they start to experience peace together?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Initially there were some arguments over whether stuff stayed or went. But then I noticed it became easier for them to compromise. A few times they seemed stunned when a a compliment from one slipped out from the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked with the couple for a few days. In the end, there was a connection between the two that wasn't there when I arrived. I told them my observation. They looked at each other with a silent acknowledgment. I think they were noticing something that had been ignored for a while. They liked each other!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-562601499252760730?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/562601499252760730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=562601499252760730' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/562601499252760730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/562601499252760730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/noticing-what-we-love.html' title='Noticing What We Love!'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-8758830995016469207</id><published>2011-10-03T11:05:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T12:30:46.149-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Simpler Alternative</title><content type='html'>We sometimes overlook red flags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ignore feeling tired. We avoid what's piling up on our counter, desk, or email box. We distract ourselves from the anxiety of taking on too much. We pretend that someone isn't making us uncomfortable. We do something we don't want to do. We adjust to living unhappily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not our fault. From early on, we were taught how to get dressed, brush our teeth, read, and drive a car. But most of us didn't learn how to essentially take care of ourselves. We weren't taught the importance of protecting our peace of mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of our rewards came from learning how to take care of others. We learned to feel good by getting the approval of our parents, teachers, friends, partners and employers. Even God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's a hard toll not being kind to ourselves.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We change when we begin to think it's worth taking care of ourselves first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We start to say no to what doesn't feel right. We begin to follow what's nurturing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What you notice is that living this way is simpler. Rather than considering everyone else, there's you. What do I need? Will this help or hurt me? Do I want to do this? It's okay for me to say no. What feels right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends recently told me that she deleted friends from her facebook account that were constantly writing negative things on her page. She felt relieved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week a client happily got rid of a couch that a sales person convinced her she would like but she secretly hated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather than pretend I wasn't tired, I began taking a naps in the late afternoon. I was able to let go of my work day and really enjoying my evenings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-8758830995016469207?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/8758830995016469207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=8758830995016469207' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8758830995016469207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8758830995016469207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/10/simpler-alternative.html' title='A Simpler Alternative'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1160073028443825878</id><published>2011-09-30T12:17:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T14:27:31.631-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ill-fitting</title><content type='html'>A while back I tried dyeing my hair. I was excited because I figured it would make me look younger. That seemed like a desirable thing at the time. But then my hair turned an orangey red. In some ways it was kind of punk. But I don't have the punk look. So mostly it was embarrassing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have gray and brown hair and I like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to own some suits. Suits are bizarre things to me because I'm allergic to wool and I hate wearing ties. But I wore both anyway to some jobs long ago. Then I stopped doing those jobs. But the suits hung around for a while. They cost a lot of money, and I was raised thinking a suit was essential. They felt like bullies in my closet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have no suits, dress shirts or ties. I just own clothes I like to wear.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was twenty I learned to meditate. I liked meditating. I even went to a school where the students and faculty meditated. But when I graduated, the joy of meditating fell away. I tried to continue meditation because I thought it would be good for me. But then I'd sit in meditation and feel angry. Now it seems like a funny image. "Ommm-Argggh!" But back then it made me miserable. One of my friends pointed out how it was making me less fun to be with. I took an honest look and I tossed out my mantra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I enjoy moments of peace when they show up naturally on their own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot of clutter busting seems to be noticing when something feels awry. Kind of like being aware that you have a stone in your shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;FALL SPECIAL&lt;/span&gt;: For the weeks of October 1st through the 15th, I'm offering my clutter busting phone sessions for $75 an hour. That's a savings of $10 from the usual rate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be driving from Chicago to Southern California for the winter. If you live in California, New Mexico, Arizona, Iowa, Nebraska, or Colorado and are interested in setting up a clutter busting session with me while I'm on the road, let me know. Also, I am hoping to do a few clutter busting workshops while I'm on the road; if you would like to set up a clutter busting workshop with me, please let me know. They are informal and are often held in people's living rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Referral Special:&lt;/span&gt; If you refer someone for my phone clutter busting service, and they schedule and pay for at least a one hour session, you get a one hour phone clutter bust free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1160073028443825878?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1160073028443825878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1160073028443825878' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1160073028443825878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1160073028443825878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/ill-fitting.html' title='Ill-fitting'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-6655305678365975267</id><published>2011-09-29T12:00:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T12:19:34.700-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom</title><content type='html'>What is freedom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the sense that I'm okay as I am. I don't need anything to make me better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I feel pressure to have or be certain things that others tell me I need to be okay. But I've tried that and it makes me tired, frustrated and sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a freedom that comes when you realize you can't escape your nature. Along with the recognition of why would you want to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're in your nature, you don't try to force things on that don't fit. You say as the great sage Popeye said, "I yam what I yam!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a fear that if I don't try and be a "better me", I'll end up in a state of social and spiritual ruin. I'll give up and fall apart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But actually, the opposite happens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we follow our innate ways, we're happy. We flourish in our happiness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness is basic. It doesn't need alterations and additions to be gained. It comes from within when we stop trying to be something other than we are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage the questioning of everything in your life, "Do I love this or can I let it go?" so that you can root out those things you're hanging on to that were supposed to make you happy or better, the things that don't fit your nature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unobscured, we are amazing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-6655305678365975267?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/6655305678365975267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=6655305678365975267' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6655305678365975267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/6655305678365975267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/freedom.html' title='Freedom'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-2282231164396633082</id><published>2011-09-28T10:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T15:16:40.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Not Your Stuff's Home</title><content type='html'>Yesterday's phone client wanted to work in her kitchen. So I had her stand in the middle of her kitchen and tell me how she felt. She said, "I don't where to start. It's all too much." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had the defeated tone in her voice. It's the feeling of, "I give up, my stuff wins."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that it's her home. She had the right to question everything in it and see if she liked each thing anymore or not. It's funny that we have to be told that. Many of us live with the feeling that our stuff gets priority over us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing that was enough to get her started. She started grabbing and tossing things right away. That's the amazing thing about clutter busting. It requires no preparation. It's all in the starting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-2282231164396633082?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/2282231164396633082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=2282231164396633082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2282231164396633082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/2282231164396633082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/its-not-your-stuffs-home.html' title='It&apos;s Not Your Stuff&apos;s Home'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3577999142163297747</id><published>2011-09-27T10:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T11:17:22.089-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Faster Than Ever!"</title><content type='html'>There's a scene in the movie, Almost Famous, where someone, in 1975, is amazed that it only takes 17 minutes to fax a sheet of paper across the country. I remember the audience laughing hard. I think there was a recognition of how quickly we get used to things, and how soon they become normal to us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we see something for the first time, there's a dazzling newness. It's exciting. We want this thing because of how it makes us feel. The funny thing is, the feeling is short lived. What excites us one day, doesn't the next. We get conditioned to go after the new-rush feeling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw some cell phone ads yesterday that said, "Faster Than Ever!", "Fast Just Got Faster!" "Insanely Fast!" "Really, really fast!" The crazy thing is, no matter how fast something is, we &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;quickly&lt;/span&gt; get used to it, and don't notice it anymore. We find ourselves bored, wanting something even faster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're being taught that fast is important. It's an easy sell because life isn't fast. We have to stand in lines. We wait for a phone call or an email. We get stuck in traffic. We wait for someone who is late. The idea of being faster makes us feel powerful. It's like one of the cell phone ads that said, "Rule the Air!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We end up not buying the products, but how we wish they would transform us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we end up feeling is frustrated because the thrill is short-lived and we're still the same person. With the added pressure of more stuff in our life. And with an increasing aching knowingness that living this way isn't serving us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A satisfying transformation comes from within. It comes from seeing that nothing is going to fix us, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;because we're not broken&lt;/span&gt;. We are how we are. With all our peculiarities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're glorious odd-balls. I mean that endearingly. I love people when they are themselves. It's hard to feel connected to someone who is trying to be something other than they are. It's refreshing to meet someone who exudes, "This is me, take it or leave it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3577999142163297747?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3577999142163297747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3577999142163297747' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3577999142163297747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3577999142163297747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/faster-than-ever.html' title='&quot;Faster Than Ever!&quot;'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5685100183965187147</id><published>2011-09-26T12:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T13:45:13.812-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Storing Crap</title><content type='html'>On the radio show, This American Life, there was an episode about people who bid on the stuff in unpaid storage lockers. It turns out storage companies auction off a delinquent client's stuff. The winner gets everything in the locker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The winning bidder hopes they find something of great monetary value amidst the stuff. But the truth of it is, the highest bidders said most of the things are worthless crap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this from experience. I've helped many clients clutter bust their storage lockers. Often they haven't taken a look at what's in there for more than a couple of years. It's common for my clients to have a fear of what's in their storage locker. I think there's a sense that it was an expensive un-emptied trash can for them. They feel embarrassed having paid so much money for nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time, it's a cathartic experience. By taking an honest look at their things that have been squirreled away for years, they begin to break their compulsive need to hang onto things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember one client uncovering many years worth of his old clothing. The clothes were worn out, out of fashion, and no longer fit him. He couldn't believe that he had felt the need to store and pay for his old clothes to live in this tiny weather controlled space. We packed them up in plastic bags and later brought them to a charity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The storage locker companies present themselves as an organizing solution. But they are taking advantage of our addiction to our stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It helps to take care of the problem ourselves by asking what's serving us and what's not. If something is no longer a part of our life, it doesn't deserve to receive the alimony of living separately from us in a temperature controlled, security protected storage locker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's okay to say no to things that are no longer a part of our life. This is going to give us the peace of mind that a storage locker can't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5685100183965187147?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5685100183965187147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5685100183965187147' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5685100183965187147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5685100183965187147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/storing-crap.html' title='Storing Crap'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1108279891564363969</id><published>2011-09-25T14:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T16:09:53.164-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Full</title><content type='html'>I can't hold on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to what's not mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It used to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to wrap it around my heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me feel alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it exists outside me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being pulled away by the suction of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fingers can't hold on anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel I lost something.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that loss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sitting silently amidst grief&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is my freedom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't hold it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't name it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't do anything with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sees and holds me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It always has&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart stops fighting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It opens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It fills with everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1108279891564363969?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1108279891564363969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1108279891564363969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1108279891564363969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1108279891564363969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/full.html' title='Full'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-3621165622599269144</id><published>2011-09-23T14:04:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T14:28:19.429-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kindly Ruthless</title><content type='html'>I just finished working on the phone with a client and, with her permission, I'd like to share the highlights with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me at the beginning of the call, "I'm well organized, but I have a house full of clutter. People don't see it. But it's there. I have stuff hidden away that distracts me subconsciously. I'm haunted by all this stuff sitting here. I can't relax at night in my bed because of all the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;crap &lt;/span&gt;in my bedroom!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that whatever's no longer a part of our life, no matter how nice it looks, or how well stacked it is, or how much we paid for it, this stuff intrudes into our personal boundaries. It's as if we are being attacked by our stuff. The antidote, the thing we can do for ourselves now, is to be kindly ruthless. We go through our things, one by one and one-pointedly decide, "Am I using and enjoying you in my life, or can I let you go?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my client needed was the permission. I listened to her toss with glee. She was picking up things and tossing them in either a trash, recycling or thrift store bag. Here are some of my favorite things she said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For too long I've been a caretaker for this stuff."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"These things have been bugging me for four years and I'm throwing them out!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going through a stack of books people gave me that aren't interesting to me at all. I used to feel like if I threw them out, I'd be giving away their friendship. Isn't that crazy?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going on, if I haven't looked at it for a while, I can let it go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's time to clean out these &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;damn&lt;/span&gt; papers!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's a bunch of bullshit anyway!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-3621165622599269144?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/3621165622599269144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=3621165622599269144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3621165622599269144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/3621165622599269144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/kindly-ruthless.html' title='Kindly Ruthless'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-780147418076227806</id><published>2011-09-22T11:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T13:17:19.013-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"A Real Weight Off My Shoulders!"</title><content type='html'>My client this morning on the phone said, "I wish I'd known to throw this out years ago." She sounded down on herself about not knowing that she didn't need to keep certain paper records. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her it didn't matter. That today was a good day to toss these things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We imagine doing a lot of things differently in retrospect. "If I'd only..." "I should have..." "Why didn't I..." But that's not what happened. There's a forgiveness that comes in accepting what we can actually do now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's compassionate to work with ourselves as we are, and do the best we can with the situation as it is. We don't do well under self-criticism. We shine when we take care of what we can now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My client let go of the heaviness of the self-blame. She seemed relieved of that burden. As my client let go of the papers, she said, "Wow! This is really freeing. This is unbelievable! This is going to be a real weight off my shoulders."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-780147418076227806?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/780147418076227806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=780147418076227806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/780147418076227806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/780147418076227806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/real-weight-off-my-shoulders.html' title='&quot;A Real Weight Off My Shoulders!&quot;'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-1694849560785216198</id><published>2011-09-21T11:49:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T12:34:16.569-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Well Spent</title><content type='html'>Time is valuable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the currency of the day. Every morning you wake up to a fresh stack of time that you get to spend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clutter steals our time by distracting, delaying and discouraging us in the moment. We tense in the midst of what no longer serves us, which makes us think less clearly and our time gets misspent. We end up at the end of the day, wondering where the day went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It helps to think of time as a thing. Because it's measurable, it's as much a thing as a toaster, a pair of shoes, or a book. The more we see time as tangible and limited, we begin to see its value and decide how to spend it in a way that serves us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes time to clutter bust. We have to spend our time going through our stuff, piece by piece, and deciding, "Do I still like and enjoy you, or is it time for you to go?" This is time well spent because it removes the obstacles to our day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A clutter busted space allows you to be present in the midst of your day. When you are present, you are at the source of time. There are great resources like energy, clarity, and insight that come to you. Time feels alive. Time becomes your friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-1694849560785216198?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/1694849560785216198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=1694849560785216198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1694849560785216198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/1694849560785216198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/time-well-spent.html' title='Time Well Spent'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-8443277600672172613</id><published>2011-09-20T11:45:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T14:28:26.271-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Things Aren't You</title><content type='html'>The longer some thing is in our life, the more we begin to see it as part of ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over time, our car, clothes, books, photos, furniture, home, friends, activities, ways of seeing things, feel like an extension of us. The idea of parting with anything feels like we are losing a piece of ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if some of these things are causing us pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This associative connection is one of the main causes of resistance when letting go of clutter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I continually encourage the questioning of the things in your life. Asking, "Do I love and enjoy this thing, or can I let it go?" creates a healthy separation and allows you to see what's in your life with clarity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see that you are what's sacred. And your things are there to support you, or it's time for them to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recent client had a closet packed full of clothes. The chaos of her clothing space made it uncomfortable for her to be in there. When I suggested we go through each piece of clothing to see what no longer fit her emotionally and physically, she wanted to skip the closet altogether. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that she had a strong connection to every item of clothing. Especially because she wore them all at some point. Her mind associated each piece of clothing as a piece of herself. But at one point they only adorned her. They served her in the moment she wore them. Not like her hands or legs would serve her. But as something separate. It was her attachment to the clothing as a whole, seeing them as part of her in this moment, that was hurting her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She opened up and was willing to take a closer look. We went through each piece of clothing in a gentle way. She was able to let go of a majority of her old clothes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-8443277600672172613?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/8443277600672172613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=8443277600672172613' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8443277600672172613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/8443277600672172613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/your-things-arent-you.html' title='Your Things Aren&apos;t You'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-4184425855905018698</id><published>2011-09-19T00:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T00:31:25.343-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlights of Saturday's Clutter Busting Workshop</title><content type='html'>What an amazing clutter busting workshop on Saturday! Everyone let go of so much! I'm there to prompt and encourage, but it's the people attending who do the letting go.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of the highlights:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a guy who talked about the great amount of paper clogging up his home. He sounded defeated. He was a young guy, and he was so tired and overwhelmed. I asked him about the papers. He said the bulk of the papers were credit card statements dating back to 1987. He didn't even know why he'd been saving them. But they were piled on a table and the floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that the past doesn't matter. Nothing we've done before counts against us. There's &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;this time&lt;/span&gt; and what we can do with it. We don't need to worry about the cause. But we do need to clean up the best we can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This seemed to relieve his guilt and anger towards himself. I talked with him about things he could do now. What was within his means to do at this time. We talked about shredders, but he didn't have one. I asked if he had a fireplace. He perked up. He said yes. I said he could burn all the paper statements. He enthusiastically said that's the one he wanted to do. He said he could get his family involved with that one. I left it at that. Sometimes all we need is a jump start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A woman came to the workshop with a bag of stuff she scooped up from the floor in her home. We found some old CDs of her music she recorded a ways back, but hadn't done anything with for awhile. I could tell by the way she held the CDs that they felt like trash to her in her hands. I asked if she could let them go. She wasn't sure. I asked if she liked recording the CDs. She got happy. She said she loved that time. I said it sounded like the CDs served her when she made them, but they don't seem to be making her feel good now. She decided to put the CDs in the donation box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she came upon a small school photo of her son when he was a senior in high school. It was beat up and torn. She said it was one of those sets of twenty pics. I asked if the picture felt fresh to her. She said she didn't like the picture. But she felt horrible with the idea of throwing it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked what she would do if she hung on to the picture of her son. She said it would end up in another pile and be forgotten about again. But she reiterated that it felt painful to toss the picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that's what clutter does. It uses pain to make us think we need something. Clutter tells us, "If you toss me, you will hurt badly." This is the opposite of, "I love this thing, I enjoy it in my life now, and it would hurt to let go of it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her how old her son was now. She said 23. I said that is what feeds her now. Her relationship with her son as he is. That's the antithesis of clutter. What we love now is what we have an actual connection with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had enough with being threatened by the supposed pain of tossing an old photo and let it go. I checked in with her 15 minutes later and she said she had no regrets about tossing the old picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-4184425855905018698?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/4184425855905018698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=4184425855905018698' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4184425855905018698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/4184425855905018698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/highlight-of-saturdays-clutter-busting.html' title='Highlights of Saturday&apos;s Clutter Busting Workshop'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8558826059479622236.post-5538611553995538468</id><published>2011-09-16T12:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T13:30:17.459-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding Clutter in Our Hearts</title><content type='html'>Clutter is often tucked away and unseen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hidden in a bookshelf. Buried under things in a drawer. Squished between other things in a closet. Cloistered in a folder in a filing cabinet. Tucked away in an email folder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes clutter are old memories or feelings hiding in our hearts.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up this morning remembering some old difficult relationships. I felt sadness. But deeper still was some pain. I sensed this was my heart trying to hold on to the relationships through the memories. The relationships were long gone. But a part of me was hanging on because it gave me a feeling those relationships still existed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather than try to keep holding on, it felt so much easier to let go. The tension in my heart gave way, and the feelings came through bold and clear with the power of finality. It felt like I was at a funeral. I got to say goodbye. I felt a great openness in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My experience teaches me compassion is the key to letting go. Everything gets better when I take care of myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8558826059479622236-5538611553995538468?l=brooks-palmer.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/feeds/5538611553995538468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8558826059479622236&amp;postID=5538611553995538468' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5538611553995538468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8558826059479622236/posts/default/5538611553995538468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brooks-palmer.blogspot.com/2011/09/finding-clutter-in-our-hearts.html' title='Finding Clutter in Our Hearts'/><author><name>Brooks_Palmer</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02966569708585349904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_e7uju2Hyu8Q/TIpIJ12TUMI/AAAAAAAAAMM/S6ETOJ1NEao/S220/bp148.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
