When I Open This, I Begin

 

I’ve learned something about myself: organization and productivity are deeply connected.

When my things are scattered, my thoughts tend to scatter with them. Before I can begin doing something, I have to find the right notebook. Then the right pen. Then the notes I wrote somewhere. Then perhaps the stickers I wanted to use.

By the time I’ve assembled everything, the little spark that made me want to begin in the first place may already be wandering off somewhere else.

So I started creating organizers for different parts of my life.

I have a small one for my Glow and Eats notes. Another is for journaling. Another holds what I need for business and strategizing.

Each one has its own notebooks and carefully chosen supplies.

And something rather lovely happens when I take one out.

I open it, and I begin.

Everything I Need Is Already Here

There’s very little negotiation required.

If I’m working on Glow, I take out that organizer.

If I want to journal, I reach for another.

If it’s time to sit down with business ideas, plans and strategies, there’s one waiting for that too.

My ADHD brain loves this arrangement because I don’t have to construct my workspace every single time I want to do something.

The decision has already been made.

The pieces are together.

Open the zipper.

There they are.

My notebook. Pens. Sticky notes. Washi. Stickers. Clips. Whatever I’ve decided belongs to that particular little world.

Instead of spending my energy preparing to begin, I can use that energy actually beginning.

Organization, for Me, Creates Output

I’ve never been interested in organization simply for the sake of having everything look immaculate.

I want my systems to do something.

For me, the equation is fairly simple:

Organization = productivity = output.

If organizing something makes it easier for me to write an article, plan a product, journal, develop an idea or finish something I’ve started, then the system is working.

That matters more to me than whether it would make a perfect photograph of an impossibly pristine desk.

My organizers aren’t museums.

They’re working spaces.

And you can tell.

There are pens tucked into loops, little cards hiding in pockets, sticky notes waiting to be scribbled on, correction tape, clips, stickers, bits of paper and whatever else I’ve decided Future Me might need.

Future Me shouldn’t have to go hunting.

I’ve already packed her bag.

And Yes, I Get to Use My Stationery

There is another delightful side effect to this system.

I actually use my stationery.

You know those beautiful pens you buy because they’re adorable?

The stickers that are almost too pretty to use?

The washi tape you keep saving?

The cute clips?

The $4 Hello Kitty pen set you absolutely did not need but bought anyway because LOOK AT IT? 😂 

Yes, I can still see my husband side-eyeing me. 

They can all come out now.

I curate the supplies inside each organizer, which means I can rotate them whenever I want.

A pen I’ve forgotten about can suddenly become my journaling pen.

A roll of washi sitting untouched in a drawer can move into my business organizer.

Stickers get used.

Pens run out of ink.

Sticky notes actually become sticky notes instead of tiny collectible rectangles.

And when I feel like changing things around, I can.

That little rotation gives the system novelty without requiring me to rebuild the entire thing.

Suddenly my stationery collection isn’t something sitting around making me feel vaguely guilty about having bought it.

It’s part of how I work.

What I own gets to have a life.

I Don’t Need One Perfect System

Perhaps that’s the biggest thing I’ve learned.

I don’t need to find the organizational system.

I need systems that work with the way my brain already moves.

Separating my organizers by purpose gives each one a distinct identity. When I pick one up, I’m not looking at every possible thing I could be doing.

I’m looking at this.

This notebook.

This project.

This little collection of tools.

This moment.

And somehow, opening that zipper becomes a transition.

The rest of the world can stay outside for a while.

Inside is everything I need for the thing I’ve chosen to do.

Maybe that’s why this works so well for me.

It’s not organization designed to make me look organized.

It’s organization designed to help me begin.

And once I begin?

That’s when the magic happens.

—-

With elegance and quiet fire,
Lady E

Founder, Glow by Lady E 
An editorial space for stories, art, and intentional living