You know those mixed nuts that are so popular during the holiday season? Well, I'm a little bit nuttier than those. Okay, a lot. Something that keeps me from going completely over the top is compartmentalization. I like to take things in my life and put them in pretty little boxes. I'll illustrate an example of what I do.
Imagine an empty room. That's a person when I first meet them. Completely empty, with no dust no clutter, just a blank slate. Sounds nice, doesn't it?
Yes, the carpet is somewhat ugly, but I use my imagination for other things. Like Brad Pitt. Naked. Wearing bunny ears... Wait. What were we talking about? Oh yes, compartmentalization.
Usually, I just pile stuff up in the room and let it just hang out. However, there are some instances that I'm forced to box up some things and put them in the corner. It's just a little thing, nothing major.
See? No big deal. That can be placed in a box, out of the way, in a dark, dusty corner. You can remember it's there, but it's not something that has to affect the room as a whole.
Sometimes I have rooms that look like this:
That can be a friend, family member, or coworker who has strayed off the path a little. S/he is not necessarily a bad person, but you need to take these things aside from the whole. Well, unless it's time for an intervention or something. Anyways, what you're seeing is the boxes in a corner, not the entire room (because I'm lazy). There are so many great and other things standing in front of the boxes. That's why I have the boxes there: I don't want to dwell on the ugly. I don't like to hate, be angry, or hold grudges. I like to just put the bad in a box, and move it out of my way. It's still there, but it doesn't have to change the atmosphere of the room.
Lately, I've had a problem. Instead of boxing up the bad stuff, I've had to compartmentalize some of the good stuff, too. I felt like some things were off-limits, so a special room in my mind started to look like this:
I know that those boxes aren't supposed to be there. The happy stuff is supposed to be floating loose so I can see it, experience it, embrace it, and I've been putting it away.
It threw me off course. When I took the good and the bad out of the room, it was nothing. It was just mediocrity, which left me confused and angry. So last night, I opened a happy box. Today, I ripped up that box to make sure I didn't use it again. I will rip the other ones up, too. The happy should be out, floating around, and making me giggle and sneeze. No more will I hold back the positive with the negative. I will let the positive thrive.
I'd rather close off the room entirely than have everything in boxes.