I've been thinking a lot lately about how important it is to respect the space that we're in, as well as the things in it. There's nothing wrong with a mess from time to time, but overall, I look at unused desks piled with papers as disrespectful to myself and everything in the stack. I look at a sink full of dirty dishes as disrespectful to myself and everything in the sink.

One of my goals at work has been to keep my space clean. I failed incredibly at this last year, being so frantic that I would throw things into a pile in the corner, desperately just trying to keep any part of the surface of my desk useable. I don't have any more time than last year to organize anything or keep it clean - but I take the time. I prioritize that over everything else, because I want to respect my space, my time, my work, myself.

Copyright: Yancy Lael, 2017

Copyright: Yancy Lael, 2017

I have been helping to clean up the land at my mother's farm on the weekends. Some parts of the property haven't really been touched for over a decade. I've found trash, plastic, soda cans, old barbed wire… There's even junk out there from the last family who lived on that land, 25 years ago. No. Disrespectful. I'm cleaning that shit up.

My home is the biggest challenge for me at this point. I'm not often there, being at work and the farm most of the time. But when I see my office space filled with more clutter than any other space in the house (well, okay the garage is the worst), I realize why I'm struggling to keep up with the blog and get some freelance pieces out there. I'm not respecting - or even using, honestly - my work space.

The first area I tackled was my bedroom. I struggle with stress- and anxiety-induced insomnia and I realized, looking around my room, that I had started to bring my work in there. I had notebooks, calendars, and paperwork all over the place. Not at all a place for rest. I moved all of that out and haven't let myself do work in that room since.

I put off facing the office and living room because part of me doesn't want to face the mess. Part of me doesn't want to deal with all the stuff I need to sort through.

But it must be done. Every day I don't do it, I realize I'm not respecting myself, and I cannot let that continue to happen.

I've got to face it all and start respecting my space, my possessions, my home, and myself.

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