Thank You For Your Email

If there is one thing in life that consistently delivers a swell of anxiety for me, it’s clutter. Clutter in my own world specifically. Less swell if we’re talking about clutter in a general sense. Don’t get me wrong. I can handle things being out of place and some level of disorganization most of the time. But a lot of chaos in my external world is an easy way to knock me off balance.

In my physical spaces, I need to know that all the items around me have a home that I can tidy them into. Their having a home is significantly more important to me than them always being in their homes. But it calms me knowing that I can organize everything away when I feel the urge to put things in order. The act of external organization helps me internally organize as needed.

Yes, I’m definitely some level of OCD. I used to count everything when I was a kid, and one of my favorite afternoon activities was alphabetizing our VHS collection. But luckily for me and for everyone in my life, I realized early that there were limits to what I could tidy every day. I saw at a young age that most things could not be sorted, color-coded, and organized. So, I sorted my room in every way I could, and I did my best to not worry about the rest of the world.

The meticulously organized bedrooms of my childhood were how I adapted to the world. I sorted when and where I could, but I let go of control in the largest of senses. And as I’ve grown up, each year passing has taught me new lessons about all the clichéd sayings. You cannot control the actions of others. Focus on the process, not the outcome. Expect the unexpected. The only thing you can control is your attitude. Annoyingly, they’re all true.

Clutter is persistent though. Especially now that there are so many ways for it to divert our attention. The chaos of clutter stirs a sense of unease in me that I always struggle to still.

We live in a world proud of its busyness and its unsustainable breakneck tempo. We spend our days searching for the next time-saving hack that will help us keep pace with our never quite satisfied desire for more. More achievement, more status, more power. Where our constant connectivity with the rest of the world often hinders our ability to connect with ourselves.

We often get caught up in the eddy of it all. The badge of busy, the comparison game, and at least for me, the always-waiting-to-turn-my-day-into-a-Where’s-Waldo-page clutter. We spin and swirl without going anywhere, fighting to keep our head above water and gasping for air. Until we find the tree branch we can cling to. The solid, steady thing that helps us find calm.

I cling to my tree branches like the guiding compass that they are. With bark under my fingers, I’m grounded. Solid and unshakable, I can keep my sense of direction in the strongest storms. But clutter always finds its opportunities to creep in, and my grip slips from time to time. As all of ours do, from whatever it is that drives us to our unsteady places.

While the rest of clutter’s distraction ebbs and flows for me, the constant source of clutter in my life these days is my inbox. Luckily a chaotic inbox only stirs up mild discomfort most of the time, and I’m grateful to be far from an inbox zero person. But when I have a several days in a row where the incoming outpaces my output no matter how much I tackle, I can spin and swirl.

I’ve had to change my approach to work so that it’s easier for me to find the bark on the days I lose my grip. Like I’ve done for as long as I can remember in my personal life, now I write down my professional goals and keep them in my line of sight. The north star goals are in bold big letters, and a task list for the day is never not near. When clutter builds up, these are the branches I hold while I let whatever else needs to drift away in the current.

The older I get the more certain I become that we will never get to everything we’d like to, on this day or in this life. We have to choose. And in each choice we make, we leave at least one other path unexplored, every single day. But. It takes those sure-footed steps forward to find out if we’re headed in a direction we like. Whether that’s ordering something we’ve never tried from a lunch menu or choosing to say yes to something that will change you forever. Time will keep moving regardless of whether we step forward or stand in place.

So, thank you for your email. The cold pitch you sent, and the annoying persistence in your just bumping this to the top of your inbox after two days reminder nudge. I’m sure you’ll send more follow-ups before you give up. Someone told you this is the best method for making sales and winning clients. But you’ve helped me learn what should be filtered to my spam folder so that I don’t see any of the emails you send again.

Thank you for your email. The one you sent in reply after I politely declined your request for a meeting. The one where you asked again for a meeting, but just next week instead. My decline email requested your pitch deck that I could review on my own and said we could start our conversation via email. You ignored me. Which means you are one of the people that taught me to stand confident when I say no.

Thank you for your email. The one you sent pretending like we’re mid-conversation that makes me double check that I’m not missing something. I’m not. You’re following up after two months of silence and blatantly ignoring that I had asked you for something more. I didn’t ask for more than to show me why. For fifteen minutes to send me the data you claimed to have during our meeting. You’ve shown me how quickly I can sort transactions from value and relationships.

I will not waste any time being annoyed with you for wasting my time. You have. But also, you haven’t. You’ve allowed me to practice clearing clutter in my inbox the same way I do in my home. You used to overwhelm me, and sometimes you still do. But mostly, your emails are something to sort from what deserves my attention, dealt with appropriately, and forgotten.