Over the past several years, I've been working on balancing productivity with creativity. An interesting byproduct of these pursuits has been the expansion of my definition of creativity.
As a writer, musician, and sometime actress, I feel as though I possess some creativity in the traditional sense. Still, I've never really thought of myself as artistic. Trying out sketchnoting helped me to loosen my grip on a standard definition of creativity, as did exploring the topic of perfectionism.
These days, I find myself viewing creativity more broadly and I'm in constant pursuit of activities that enhance it in any form. Toward this end, I bought a book called 1001 Ways to Be Creative, which I'm perusing a few pages at a time, looking for ideas and further reshaping my already dynamic definition.
When I look back, though, I realize that what I've been viewing as a recent quest was sparked more than a decade ago when I began to look at organizing through a new lens. In a quest for self-improvement, reading about organizing helped me to validate a long-held belief that we all organize differently. In addition, it helped me to stop beating myself up about my own "disorganization." The concept of personal and organizational styles arose from all of that exploration, and I began actively pursuing non-traditional, creative ways of bringing order to my surroundings.
At its core, creativity includes looking at the world differently, seeing beauty in the ordinary, and coming up with new uses for old things. It's thinking outside the box, or bin, or drawer. Creativity and organization converge when we look beyond traditional tools like binders and file cabinets, and not only use the tools that work with our styles, but learn to seek them out.
One of my favorite organizing hacks is the round bin with plentiful holes that I use to hold plastic kitchen items like measuring cups and measuring spoons. I'm certain this tool was meant for different uses and spaces but, as a five foot tall person, it's a perfect fit; all those holes provide multiple ways for me to grab the bin and access its contents. Had I used more traditional storage, I'd need a step stool every time I needed to pull out the measuring cups, an additional step (no pun intended) that quickly grows old on busy days.
Learning to look at traditional tools in new ways is a great way to turn things we already own into storage. A year or so ago, my daughter began cleaning out her spent jar candles, draining the melted wax and using the jars to store small items. (Storing food in these repurposed jars is not recommended).
Thanks to her example, I've begun to do the same, adding an empty candle jar collection to my cleaned-out jelly jar collection. One of those candle jars sits under my sink, holding dishwasher pods, while a jar that once held jelly now holds cosmetic brushes. The white plastic bins my prescription eye drops come in can be made prettier with washi tape and pressed into service to hold other things (refill heads for my electric toothbrush, for example). Because these bins can't be recycled, they would otherwise have been consigned to a landfill. Or worse. Repurposing them saves time, money, and resources.
Whether you're a Type A organizer, or someone who has begun to embrace her personal and organizational styles, you probably have some idea of what works for you. Analyzing the attributes of a container that's earning its keep can be the first step to identifying other containers you already have on hand that can be pressed into service. Some may work well as is, while others may need adaptations (draining the wax from candle jars, for example). Or, if you're feeling creative, you can dress up these repurposed containers with fabric, washi tape, glitter glue, or whatever else you might have on hand.
Sprinkling a little creativity into your organization can make it more fun. And, if you've made a New Year's resolution to de-clutter and spruce things up, you might just be able to accomplish both of these tasks in one step.
