I am using the rare moment of relative quietness to clean up my work space. My living quarters I keep very minimalistic, but my desk at the library, and the little room I use as some sort of office, that is a different affair altogether.
My desks are landscapes of paper piles of various heights and dubious structural stability.
The two largest stacks are severely tilted, and each one separately would certainly fall over, but they lean against each other to give each other stability and together they do not collapse. They look like a metaphor for some couples that I married in the Chapel.
I scribble a lot of notes while working, and they go on a pile. I get brochures and advertisements, and when I plan to go through them later, I put them on one of the piles. Conference notes - or notes I took during interesting lectures? When I get back to the library, I put them on my desk, to sort and summarize later. Interesting papers I think I must read? Same thing. Official letters I get? After reading them I drop them in the office to sort or store later. In the end it all gets buried in big piles of paper that I do not dare to throw away, because perhaps there is still something important in there that I want to keep.
Today, I sifted through them, and chucked anything I have no use for any more in a cardboard box used for moving. In this case it will move to the trash. I have not done this in a while, and as I got deeper down to the bottom of the piles, I dug deeper into the past. It is like an archeological excavation: layers deeper down were buried in a more distant past.
From time to time, the excavation reveals a forgotten treasure. I found a souvenir I bought at the Achur monastery I visited two years ago on a cultural exchange programme, some sort of charm for good luck, still in its original wrapping. I had forgotten about it. Also, I was shocked that already two years have passed.
I also found a small cordless scewdriver. I vaguely remember buying it as a gift for one of the library assistants that complained about how many screws there are in the new book cases. I have no idea how it got snowed under with papers. Perhaps I put in on my desk and put a few papers on top to hide it. And then forgot about it.
Then at some point one finds nice papers that still look interesting to read. That is when I start to hesitate and slow down, and get more picky about what to throw away. That is the danger. When you start doubting whether to throw away this piece of paper that you have not looked at in years and did not even remember you had, you must steel yourself, and chuck it out anyway.
Today, I got rid of five large boxes worth of paperwork (of which I throw away four and keep one) and looking at my pristine desk I am satisfied with my clean-up.
The cycle can start again.
