When I am tired, everything in my home becomes junk: my treasured books, the art and craft supplies, my children’s toys, well-used kitchen tools, piles of laundry for sorting. I stalk around the house fuming and muttering, sweeping Lego and Magic cards off side tables and armchairs, consolidating stacks of kids’ library books, trying to sort stray items off the dining room table. “We are drowning in junk!” I roar, while my kids watch me accusingly and clutch at their valuables. It doesn’t last long. Sometimes I need to be hustled off to bed like a toddler myself. Sleep restores my sympathetic vision. What is most in my way is also what is most loved and most in use. After each spell of minimalism, I re-embrace creative, chaotic abundance. I’m learning to maintain my sanity by aligning with what is.

From the word prompt “junk.”  Doing another stint of 100 Words: The Beauty of Brevity with Maya Stein.  I’m going to periodically (or maybe regularly) post these short pieces here, in the order I write them. I’m relaxed about the exact word count – just enjoying the exercise of keeping things brief.