Cleaning Out the Closets

If you could be everywhere, would you choose to be? I used to think that was doable, then it became less enjoyable because you can’t fully be in the now or in the moment if you are constantly envisioning 10 steps ahead or 20 steps behind or 30 steps to the right or 50 steps to the left.  You end up not knowing where you are really right then and there at that present space in time.  After years of trying to be all to everyone and giving as much as you possibly can to your career, clients, friends, family, not a lot is left over for yourself.  You’ve in essence exhausted all energy and resources just to make it all “happy and picture perfect” on the outside because quite often, let’s be real, while we don’t live in LA, NYC, nor Miami, DC has a “thing” about surface appearances.  And I don’t mean plastic (albeit there is that), I mean a life which is just so, just “perfect”. We have to have the right career, right employer, right job title, right job path, right boss, right friends, right social circle, right associations, right charity boards, right charity committees, right appearance in the right magazines, right kid’s school, right hair stylist, right alma mater, right neighborhood, right car, right country club, right private club, right cars, right weekend getaways, right 2nd and 3rd homes, right personal trainer, right credit card, right personal stylist … and so on and so on.

It’s also thrown at us in a frenetic manner, so much so that we are like circus clowns on unicycles juggling the proverbial bowling pins of life while ducking the pies being thrown at us and the entire time, we have a glowing smile on our faces.  Life’s all good!  See! Look at my perfect white smile on my Botoxed face! And I’m wearing this perfect gown from this season as I cycle to the right charity ball which I’m chairing! Did you buy a table yet?

I’m pretty certain any major urban market faces some degree of this type of societal conundrum.  If I were to pick up and move to Chicago, Boston or San Francisco, I doubt I’d suddenly be in Wonderland.  At the same time, as much as I hear friends, colleagues and conversations during cocktail chatter speak more about the pressures of life in DC, I confess without the East Coast energy, pressure points, stress fractures, images to live up to, I’m not so sure I’d know what to do with myself.  “I actually thrive on it,” a friend shared with me recently.  “I’ve thought I would have left by now, but I can’t.  When I went back to visit my family in ‘x-city’, I was bored out of my mind.  We are in the nation’s capital, I mean, the stress gets to me, yes, and the (insert finger quoting action) having to lead some sort of perfect life, but there is no better place to have a combination of education, empowerment, entrepreneurship, culture, and diversity, and yet it’s like a small town.  Especially for a woman.”

After living in the DC area for 20 years (Yes, I moved here when I was 5! Yup. Sure did.) and witnessing the true Washingtonians, the transient community, the lifers, the transplants, the haters, and the converts, I’m coming to conclusion that I can’t imagine living anywhere else, at least not as a primary home.  In the future there’s a possible bi-coastal life for me, but DC is for sure homebase and it’s a perfect one as there’s going to be more travel blogging coming up.

So what’s a girl to do when she gets in an end of summer rut? She pretends she’s moving and she cleans out her closets.  And folks, let me tell you, it’s a cleansing, freeing, almost spiritual ceremony that takes place when one cleans out closets.  Yes, there’s the metaphor that goes along with it, but if you do it right, it’s not only a challenging process, it can also be fun because it takes you down memory lane.  Poring over old photos, gift bags from 2007, stacks of old birthday cards, finding bracelets and rings that were thought to be long gone, cowboy boots from a trip out west years ago, magazine and newspaper clippings, letters from Grandmother who has passed on, boxes of awards, paraphernalia from running for Woman of the Year in 2007, my first Coach briefcase, D&G sunglasses borrowed from a friend, about 30 baseball hats collected over the years – and I hadn’t even gotten to the clothing yet.  Going down the memory lane of the past five years of living here was just what I needed as a solid reminder as to why I love being in Washington.

After the clearing process was finally done, the bags were collected for trash, donation, consignment, and giving away, the organization finished and the dust had settled I felt renewed and re-energized.  I took pride in telling a few of my friends that I had actually completed the daunting task of cleaning out three closets this weekend.  They all said, “I just did that too,” or “I really need to do that, I’ve been putting it off for months. It’s a great feeling isn’t it?”

Well, considering I put it off for 5 years, it is a great, wonderful feeling.