The junk Drawer

I have a (well, really several) junk drawers at my house. None of them started as junk drawers, but through neglect and laziness, “junk drawers” they became. The drawer that you keep miscellaneous pens, pencils, erasers, batteries, sticky notes, etc., is the one acceptable junk drawer every house can have. No, you usually can't find what you need in it because it's so disorganized, and for some, even painful to open, but, it is still the socially accepted “messy drawer”.
In our home we love to have a comfortable place for guests to visit. We love to have people over. When people are coming over, I like for things to appear clean and neat-I try to check the toilet bowl rim; make sure the sink/counters/table is clear of stuff; check if anything that may be lurking under the furniture can be seen if someone sits on the floor. I do, however, struggle with organization. Over the course of the week, “little piles” of papers and junk invade our home. They are made of the things that you don't have (or take) the time right way to deal with, so they end up in “little piles”. Some turn into “big piles”. What do you do when you have people coming over, and you need to quickly abolish the 'little piles”? Well, that's where “junk drawers” (plural) are useful. If the piles don't fit in the drawers, there's the “junk cabinet”. When the cabinet is filled, there's a closet. And when the hoarding and laziness have gotten out of hand, there's the “junk room”. I love to have people over, and I want them to feel like they are in a comfortable, relaxed environment. Please come to my house, I want you to feel like you can just open up and let go of the cares of the world. However, you are only allowed into specifically sanctioned areas. FOR GOODNESS SAKE DON”T OPEN ANY DRAWERS, OR CABINETS, OR CLOSETS, OR GO UPSTAIRS. If you saw that, what would you say? “How can she stand it?”, “Do you like everything being a cluttered mess?” Please limit your wanderings to the yard, living room, guest bath and kitchen.
Part of the reason I enjoy having guests, is I LOVE to talk. Chit chit chat, yak yak yak, blah blah blah. I can talk for HOURS on end. I really enjoy hearing about people- their thoughts, joys, struggles, ideas. I love to make people feel like I can “relate” to them. I will never be shy about sharing a story or scenario that relates to you or your situation. Someone who has spent time chatting with me might tell you that I am an “open book” because I'll talk to you about anything you will talk about. But, the truth is, I am NOT an “open book”. I am more like a library with certain books and sections of books that are accessible, but much of the library is off limits. I love reading your book and will reference things in mine or even other people's books, but to just allow you to grab a book of any old shelf? Not so much.
I can talk forever about nothing, but it's very difficult for me to really talk about things that matter, things that are important, things that invoke emotion. I become overwhelmed. When I meet with my kid's teachers, I can discuss methods and strategies and performance, but when I truly attempt to express my gratitude to these wonderful people who invest in my children, I get choked up. I recently resigned from my position in the toddler room where I work. We had Parent/Teacher conferences my last week. I had no issues going over the developmental continuum, talk about progress, or steps moving forward, but when I opened my mouth to tell a parent how dearly I have enjoyed having their child in my care, nothing came out. I just started to cry. I will miss this student very much, but I just couldn't say it. I am also pretty useless evangelically. When I attempt to tell someone about my Jesus, how loves me and died for me and even though I suck, He wants to have a relationship with me, my throat tightens up and my eyes fill with tears. (Okay, I am totally tearing up writing about this stuff. What a loser!). When faced with any situation when I know my words are emotionally significant, I freeze up. I am afraid. I can't say anything. And if it does come out, what if it comes out all wrong?
I read a term a few months ago called “low intimacy tolerance”. I liked this term. If there's a term for it, it must be OKAY! I can tolerate other's intimacy, but can't seem to reciprocate. This term gives me the liberty to avoid being vulnerable. I can keep the window to my soul one of those one way mirror things used in interrogation rooms on cop shows. I really don't know I'm doing it, it has just become how I do things. I know the defense mechanism better than I know myself. I don't have to be afraid if I risk nothing. “Relating” is much easier than actually “knowing”. If you knew me, What would you say? “How can she stand it?”, “Do you like being a cluttered mess?”.
There are times when the rooms, the closets and drawers get organized and pretty. THEN, you can feel free to look around. A friend of mine once said, “If you want to see my house, call first. If you want to see ME, just stop by.” It can't be much fun to just keep visiting someone's house, but stay confined to the kitchen-never seeing the person who lives there. So, if I allow you to come over and my house is a wreck, please know that I'm making progress. This is who I really am-A WRECK.