I have piles of sticky notes on my desk. I also have them strewn in various places throughout my classroom--stuck on a bookshelf, on top of a new title I'm saving for a student when they finish their current read, on the door saying "BRB" to my perpetual morning visitors.
I even have a sticky note on my desk that says, "Figure out a better documentation system than sticky notes." Meta, anyone?
I also find them in my journals and planners. They're never logically sticking out the top so I can find them again. They're stuck to a page like a floating thought, afraid to commit to the actual fabric of the notebook, but inhabiting a temporary space--although it will likely stay there forever, forgotten.
My life always seems to be in piles.
I pile stickies, I pile books as opposed to categorizing them, I pile belongings and clothes and writing utensils.
I also pile life events. It always ends up that major things end up stacked top to bottom, top to bottom, rather than dealt with one-by-one.
Two years ago, it was graduation, marriage, moving multiple times, starting a career.
This time, it's starting graduate school, ending the school year with my kids, moving into a new house, starting renovations, traveling to Europe, and training for a new content area.
Of course, my hyper-literary mind focused on deeper meanings and behavioral psychology starts to whispers--why with all the piles?
So, in the most concrete find-your-truth fashion, I wrote a poem. It's incomplete, just like most things I tend to parse through.
My life is always in piles.
Piles of paper, piles of books,
Piles of shoes and scarves (rather than putting them on hooks);
piles of feelings because I feel them too fast,
and I'm not sure if anyone else does;
I'm too afraid to ask.
Piles grow into heaps until I can separate them into more categories.
I try to compartmentalize,
but they seem too different to water down by similarity.
How do you boil something down when time will make it just evaporate into thin air,
forgetting what was in the mix in the first place?
The data is inconclusive as to why I stack things on top and not beside, or why I have difficulty when I decide.
Maybe I should piles "Piles" on the things I still don't know about me.
Do you experience life one at a time, or altogether?