We all have our therapeutic areas.
Reading books, listening to music, gardening, going for long solitary walks, etc.
But mine is cleaning my wardrobe.
Just picking up each piece of clothes wear and rearranging it back into a systematic pile give me the biggest high.
Neatly arranging. Stacking into piles. Season-wise. Colour- wise.
Discarding some (with a very heavy heart, believe me).
And not-discarding (due to an ingrained sense of stinginess) the ones which actually need to be.
Relegating the ones which do not fit behind in that oh-so great hope of fitting into them.
Sifting through each shirt, kurta is a mental journey for me……..taking me to the time I shopped for it.
Could have been when I just indulged in some shopping therapy.
Or bought when friends went out to have a great time shopping and gossiping.
Or picked up during travels bringing alive the holiday memories too.
So, you see, cleaning the cupboard is not only soothing ,but it recreates a great kaleidoscope of memories too.
And what could be more better than that?
However, sometimes I wonder, what is it about organisation that gets to me?
It is not that I am a compulsively organised 24X7.
No, I am not. I like to think of myself as being just reasonably organised.
But believe me, when I am in a not-so-good mood, and I open the cupboard my hand itches to set all right.
Sorting, Folding, Heaping. Setting all in order.
I take to the task like a demon possessed. Thinking there could be no greater task than this.
After all, this is my therapy and I need to set my world in order.
Systemise. Prioritise. Spruce up. Whip into shape.
And at the end of the mission, I just step back.
Shake my head to a side. Inspecting. Considering.
Silently patting my back…..”what a great achievement….and what a great feeling”
And believe me…. I could ask for no other.
For, nothing, just nothing compares to this.
Preeta Chag 