When “Susan” came to my class on organizing paper, she expected how-to instruction and some motivation. I don’t think she expected to have an aha moment.
After discussing how to handle papers requiring action and papers to be filed, we looked at papers to store long-term. This category typically includes seven years of taxes and support documents (although this varies by person, so check with your tax preparer), documents to prove identity or ownership, instruction manuals/warranties, and sentimental papers.
Within the category of sentimental papers are work-related papers. Most of us have these, regardless of our life stage. These could be papers connected to career training, reports from various jobs, promotions, evaluations, records, and all those career-advancing self-improvement articles that we promised to read someday.
I’ve had my own battle with career-related papers, and it went much deeper than I expected. In my book, Who Am I Now? Realign Your Home and Life, I described the pivotal moment when I let go of academic papers and research done during my Master’s degree.
These papers no longer aligned with the trajectory of my life. Letting go of them meant I was releasing my dream of getting a Ph.D. and stepping into the unknown—which felt scary. Denying the reality of my situation meant certainty, and also, stagnancy. By facing how things had changed and letting go of the old, I created mental and physical space to discover my true calling as a home organizer and life coach.
Susan’s work-related papers were from her career as an early childhood educator. Two years ago, she boxed up her supplies and papers because the preschool she spent decades working at was closing. She expected to retire in a couple more years, so this timing took her a bit by surprise. The boxes were stashed in her attic, out of sight and mostly out of mind, but still lingering in the back of her mind’s to-do list.
Initially, she claimed she didn’t really think about the boxes. Then, she explained how she and her husband were considering a move, which meant going through everything. Tucked away boxes often create this kind of dual pull: on the one hand, it’s a project to get done; on the other hand, it’s easy to delay. A move or a crisis pushes people out of ambivalence and into action. The problem with delaying sentimental papers is that it’s really intense to sort through them all at once.
I was getting mixed signals about her motivation. It made me curious. “What is keeping you from organizing these work papers?” I asked. I expected her to explain how she didn’t have time or the attic was too hot. Instead of these answers, she paused, and replied, “It’s because I don’t want to be old.”
The entire class went silent. There was a profound truth here. We all wanted to hear more and not just for her sake.
Susan described how the mail from AARP and constant phone calls about Medicare plans felt like a painful taunt: “You’re old! You’re old!” She didn’t want to be old. She hadn’t wanted to retire quite yet. Going through those career papers meant officially acknowledging her retirement, which meant officially admitting she was “old.”
As she described what “old” meant to her, I could understand why she wanted to resist that label for as long as possible. Essentially, her definition required her to give up her vitality. I assured her that the concepts of aging that applied to past generations didn’t apply to Baby Boomers. Her generation was paving the way for vibrant aging. She got to choose her own rules.
Trying to ignore the reality of getting older only took away her power to choose a different story. Rather than look at going through her teaching materials as evidence that the best part of her life was over, we explored the value of doing organizing them.
For example, Susan could identify the highpoints of her years as a teacher. Was there a project she felt particularly proud of? She could mine the boxes for the most precious notes from students or parents. She could turn these notes, drawings and photos into a photo book. (Something as simple as a binder with page protectors works, too.) The photo book would take only a fraction of the space and she could take a trip down her precious memory lane with ease.
Another valuable purpose—one that would help her to get excited about her next chapter—would involve noticing her favorite aspects of her career, as well as those she wouldn’t miss. Could she carry her love for four- and five-year-old kids into a new form? Is it the creativity she loves? How might that be fulfilled elsewhere? Having clear ideas about what energizes her would allow her to detect a new opportunity when it showed up.
This discovery process can empower Susan to create a new definition of “old” that fits her. This mindset work will give her immediate joy and will also strengthen her to face the inevitable changes that come to all of us as we get older. The Susan who avoided her retirement papers will have a different level of joy than the Susan who will use the organizing process to rediscover and realign. I know first-hand that abundance can follow facing and engaging in these steps.
Susan, and perhaps other attendees, left the class on organizing paper with a different perspective on the project. No longer did it just mean slogging through papers to achieve some ideal level of organization, it had the potential to be much more.
What is keeping you from your organizing projects? Make a list of the first reasons you come up with, then ask that powerful question, “What is really keeping me from doing this?” When the deeper answer comes to you, seek support to begin your rediscovery and realignment journey.
