September is kind of a bossy, flamboyant month.
I’ve noticed that lately, as I try very hard to adhere to the timetable that seems to come along automatically with the new calendar page.
Okay, I admit it. I have been feeling just a tad sorry for myself.
I wasn’t quite ready for September because I hadn’t quite finished with summer.
Summer kind of got away on me because of the book. The book was called The Magic of Organization and it was supposed to change my life.
I bought it because I keep thinking if I read enough of those books something will click and a new organized me that has been hiding inside my body for many years will emerge.
Common sense tells me you can’t get organized from a book anymore than you can jump into the deep end of the pool just by reading about it, but me and common sense are usually at odds anyway.
So I bought the book, sighed deeply and began reading, waiting, in a most impractical way, for the magic to begin.
It didn’t.
About the same time as I bought the book, a friend who, for some reason, knows about such things told me if I just started with one shelf or one cupboard or one corner, I could have my whole entire house clean and organized.
“When?” I said all meek and compliant.
“One day,” my unhelpful friend said.
And so it began.
One shelf in my pantry. And then another.
Before I knew it I became obsessed. Clean, clean, clean. Look at me go!
My self-imposed cleaning frenzy lasted throughout the summer. I have to say I went through every closet, every cupboard, every bathroom and even the laundry room for heaven sakes, did not escape my ruthless attack.
But, as I purged and cleaned, summer with all its magic, charm and delightful green and blue sun drenched days, disappeared.
Wow! That was fast. Oh well, my efforts have paid off and my house is so neat and organized, I almost feel like someone else lives in it. I dare not question myself as to how long it will last, but right now am enjoying the satisfaction of opening a closet and staring at neatly folded towel and sheets.
It’s a miracle, actually!
Anyway, now we are on to September. People are saying its time to get back to a routine.
Its time to get back to lessons and classes and getting all fit and self-improving whatever self improvement thing needs work.
Waiting in a line up at the grocery store, I grabbed one of those magazines whose front cover flaunted something about being all fit and looking at least 20 years younger than your real age.
Once again common sense perched its little voice on my shoulder and said, “you can’t read about it and make it happen, you dummy.”
I guiltily dropped the magazine in my cart anyway, hiding the unhealthy choices like nachos and cookies and smiled sweetly at the check out girl.
But, whatever, I’m ready. I know all about verbs as opposed to nouns.
Action. Take action! It’s the only way to make things happen.
So, I’m back at the gym, working at working out, and being all glad when I’m done. And my wonderful, sweet and very patient piano teacher has agreed to take me on for yet another year, coaching and encouraging me as I stumble through yet another book, hopefully one level higher.
And, for some reason, I’m all happy.
Every morning and every night when I drive to and from work September blesses me with a delightful kaleidoscope of colours that takes my breath away.
My little grandson just began Grade 1, leaving the cocoon of mom’s kitchen and chocolate chip cookies for a bigger world. He is somewhat tired, bewildered and missing his brothers, his Lego and his favorite TV shows.
I think about him as I drive through the glorious golden September days.
“It’s just the start of another adventure,” I muse to myself. “For you and for me!”
And it’s good. It’s all good!