By MARY BETH MAASSEN
Los Alamos
My husband thinks I am cleaning the garage. Well, I am IN the garage. I am actually sitting in my car with the air conditioning on because it is so hot this afternoon. And, instead of cleaning the garage I am eating an ice cream bar I found hidden in the extra freezer. When I try to hide food from myself it usually doesn’t work. Certainly not this time.
As I sit in the car I ponder the piles of crap I have stacked around the perimeter of the space. I see things I want to sell, things I want to donate, and things I want to bequeath to others, but mostly I see things that need to be hauled to the dump.
With very few exceptions I could haul everything to the dump and no one would be the wiser, and I could be done with this nasty task and my life would be less cluttered, and less complicated. And I think about doing just that, but knowing I have so much stuff that someone, somewhere, would find valuable, stops me. Trying to manage this stressful and uncomfortable feeling of wanting to do one thing but feeling a need to do another thing is where the ice cream bar comes in. Enjoying the ice cream buys me a little time and soothes me for just about three delightful minutes.
And then 450 fat calories later I am right back to my anxiety-producing pondering.
According to cognitive dissonance theory, people experience tension or discomfort when their beliefs or attitudes do not match their behaviors. I certainly experience this when my house is a cluttered mess but I am too busy or lazy to keep up with it, and that creates a paralyzing anxiety, and then nothing gets done. I also experience it when I know I should be more physically fit but I am too busy or lazy to exercise. Or when I know I should be a better friend, or better caretaker of the planet, or, or, or. It just goes on and on.
Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets and I frequently embrace (or at least side-hug) his quote “The best way out is always through.” On this occasion I eventually run out of ice cream and my only way out is through, so I leave the air-conditioned comfort of my car and start, reluctantly, going through my boxes.
I sort, I toss, I re-box and label. Some things will be sold, some will be donated, and some will be delivered to friends and family. I am able fit everything that needs to go to the dump into just a few garbage bags. I load the boxes and bags into the back of the truck and deliver each load where it needs to go. I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders and now there is room to park two cars in the garage. I have completed a burdensome task and I am nearly giddy with delight. I want to celebrate. Too bad the ice cream is all gone.
