Time to Begin

My office was once my sanctuary.

It was pristine. Every paper in its place. I knew just where to reach to get exactly what I wanted.

Now when I reach for something—I have no idea what I will get. Nor, do I really want to know.

At one point, I shared my office with my stepson and my daughter. Now my stepson has his own computer and desk in his room. That leaves Mimi downstairs in my office, er, make that her office.

I want it back.

I need order. I need a lack of things. There are simply too many items in my office now. Too much of the something/anything syndrome that I am desperate to break this year. Hence, I have enrolled my daughter in Master Kim’s Taekwondo class twice a week.

There are many rules. A rebel by nature myself—I have learned to love rules for my children. I love that they have to bow before entering the workout area. I adore that they have to bend at the waist and say “sir,” or “mam” when seeing an adult male or female.

I can’t believe that I dig it, but I do.

And then there are all sorts of rules about listening to parents, keeping one’s room clean and being obedient. I realize these are akin to a foreign language to the children, especially Mimi, but she knows if she wants to earn different color belts—the highest status symbols in karate!—then she must learn the rules and her daily forms or moves.

Tomorrow I have asked, actually informed, my husband that he must spend the entire day (none of this half day or worse—a few hours stuff) with the children so I can clean my office.

Master Kim may have his rules, but I have mine, too.

To start the New Year writing exactly the way I want—I need minimalism. A clear desk save for my new black, Macbook computer. Then the only other thing I want to see is the blank page of the computer screen and my words that will fill it.

By Dawn Yun