This stainless steel mess tray is one of my favorite things. I wanted one forever. At the fleamarket a few years ago, I saw a bunch of them for sale. I considered buying one, but for whatever reason, I decided I didn’t need it. So, when I passed by the military surplus booth at the flea market a few months back, I did what I wished I had done years ago.

Unfortunately, the majority of my meals these days come in bowl form, so my tray doesn’t get as much use as it would have if I had bought it when I first had the inclination. I’m reminded of the scene in Home Alone 2 when Kevin tells the freaky bird lady that he outgrew his rollerblades because he was afraid of getting them dirty.

You Gotta Smash That Hot Iron

I think I wrote in a previous post that throughout my life, I have put what I want on the back burner because I have never felt I had earned it. I’ve delayed gratification for so long that once I finally get what I want, my interest in it has waned, or the opportunity has passed.

When I was in my teens and twenties, I wanted nothing more than a top-of-the-line stereo system in my car. I never got one because I could never justify the expense. I settled for cheap, second-hand components, jury-rigged and haphazardly installed in the fleet of vehicles I owned in my teens and twenties.

In the late oughts and early teens, I wanted an iMac. They were so expensive, and just like the car stereo, I could never justify it, especially with a family to support. I wish I had just bit the bullet and bought one. Instead, I bought an HP laptop that didn’t have the specs to edit video. How many opportunities did I miss out on?

Time Is Our Only Currency

Time feels much more precious to me now that I’m an old man. It’s always been precious to me, but now, it feels irreplaceable. The “Somedays” and “Onedays” seem less and less likely. I’m realizing the urgency with which I must act on any whim, dream, fantasy, idea, or goal before time runs out. Either mine or it’s.

That’s what the purge in my garage is about. I’m cleansing my space of the things that I don’t want to make room and time for the things that I do want. It seems like a simple and obvious exercise, but it’s been a massive mental and emotional struggle. It’s been a physical struggle, too. Bonnie noticed how fucked up my hands were this afternoon. I have cuts, gouges, scrapes, scabs, and scars all over, and all new.

I’m Evolving

This experience has changed the way I think about my time and my priorities. Doing what I want has always felt awful. It feels like what I imagine infidelity would feel like. It feels wrong. Or rather, it felt wrong. After two weeks of diligently working toward a goal, I don’t feel anxious or guilty about doing something for myself. I feel a little anxious and guilty about not feeling anxious and guilty about doing something for myself, but it’s negligible.

They say your surroundings are a reflection of what’s going on inside of you, and I fully believe that. When my space is a mess, my mind is a mess. I’m not sure which is causing the other, but I know that when I clean and organize my surroundings, I feel better. So, I’m clearing my mind while I’m clearing my garage so that I will have space in both to focus on what really matters. I don’t want to miss any more meals with my mess tray.