Decluttering, Mishaps, Gratitude and Staying Mindful
Right before the holidays, I wrote about my decluttering experience in my office. I ended up donating dozens of books to a local charity and felt much better afterward. Life seemed lighter, and more joyful. I concluded the post with these words:
“What I wasn’t expecting was the accident. What accident? With my boxes of books? Don’t worry, I’ll explain it in my next post. Hang on!”
Perhaps because it was during a busy holiday period, but nobody seemed concerned. At least I didn’t get any “What happened to you?” or “I hope it wasn’t serious!” messages from family, friends, or strangers. What a relief.
In all, I had three accidents. First, while I was carting away my books, a bungee cord sprang and hit my left eye, right above the eyeball. Then, when I was getting ice from our freezer in the garage, to place over my eye, I slammed my finger in the door and had to ice my finger.
Next, two days later, because I couldn’t see clearly, I banged my other eye against the doorjamb when I ran to answer the door. Again, I had to sit with ice on my face while I chatted with my visitor.
Of course, I could’ve been upset after these accidents, yet I realized how lucky I was. They taught me valuable lessons in gratitude. The results of slamming and banging could’ve been much worse. This morning, two weeks later, I went to see an ophthalmologist to make sure I hadn’t ripped or rattled something ocular that didn’t need ripping or rattling. She reassured me that all was fine, before telling me about a patient who hadn’t been as lucky with his gardening tools.
Gratefully, I take this as a humble lesson to be present as much as possible in my life. Like some people, I have a tendency to run, rather than slow down. So today, after my eye appointment downtown, I walked slowly, on purpose, doing what we call leche-vitrines (window-shopping; literally, “licking storefront windows” in French). I tried to notice all that surrounded me: crowds, trams, bare trees, even stinking garbage cans.
Then I took myself to a restaurant and didn’t look at my phone or read a book (unlike lots of folks dining alone). Instead, I practiced mindful eating and thoroughly enjoyed my hot and spicy Asian soup. As I allowed my senses to savor my meal—its taste, aroma, and texture—my eyes took in the restaurant’s lovely decor. It was a memorable, peaceful lunch.
When I met with my spiritual director last night, I mentioned the three accidents. She agreed that they could be signs to remind me to slow down and “smell the roses.” Something I often advise my clients to do. Yet I don’t always do it myself.
I’m sure I’m not the only person who has learned valuable lessons from unexpected accidents. I’d love to hear your thoughts or experiences. Feel free to share them in the comments.