Does a clean office equal intelligence?

I think it was Tolstoy or Marilyn Monroe or Jesus who talked about a messy desk being the sign of brilliance

Hi Friend,

This week I’m back in my hometown for my mom’s memorial service. Sitting in the home I grew up in but haven’t lived in for almost 30 years has been comforting. It’s also highlighted for me the ways in which I am very much like my mom.

There were almost always animals around the desk Photo by Syaoran 7 on Unsplash

There are the obvious ways, of course, the love of reading, education and animals. The deep passion for our favourite sports teams (go Blue Jays!).

But we are also similar in another way that only recently made itself obvious to me: our lack of organization.

My mom would be horrified to hear this opinion. She considered herself somewhat organized and tidy. But the truth is, she was neither of those things. At least, not in the 40-some years I’ve known her.

In the first iteration of our house (it’s been added to so many times its shape in no way resembles any sort of standard home design), my mom had a tiny study. As a teacher, she often brought her marking and planning work home with her. The idea was she would do her work at home in the study, undisturbed by her children, the tv or the animals constantly asking to enter or leave the house.

But the study was in such disarray she almost always brought her work out to the living room. She would mark papers while watching the football game and annoy us by telling us to turn down the tv so she could concentrate.

Her study was a mess of papers, books and bags full of papers and books. Her desk was covered in random bills, reminder notes to herself, and pens in varying stages of dryness. Not to mention stickers with sayings she loved, photos of her family, and scissors. Far more scissors than anyone who is not heavily involved in crafting needs.

Like clockwork, every year Mom would announce she was cleaning the study so she could work in it. She would spend the weekend dutifully organizing it and putting everything in its place, just to have the chaos rebuild over the next month. And the study would be unusable again.

When the house was redone, the study was removed and Mom’s “office space” became a desk along one wall of our dining room. The idea, she said, was that having the desk out in the open would force her to keep it clean and tidy, especially when company came over.

It was a beautiful dream that lasted all of two weeks. Maybe not even that long. Her desk got messy and when company came over, piles of the mess were transferred to her bedroom behind a closed door, just to be moved back out when they left. After a while, we didn’t even bother going through that charade. The desk just sat messy and company could take it or leave it.

For about 35 years, that desk has accumulated more photos, pens, scissors and books.

Like clockwork, once a year Mom would announce her intention to clean her desk. And like clockwork the desk would quickly devolve into office supply anarchy.

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Compared with Mom’s beautiful chaos, my office at home seemed amateurish in its disorganization. Still disorganized, but on a smaller scale. The desk contained at least four massive stacks of paper and notebooks I was constantly shuffling through to find whatever I needed. Bookshelves were filled with books, many of which I hadn’t got around to reading, but I swore at some point I would.

Old mail, office supplies, taxes from 10 years ago. But not taxes from 20 years ago, so I can tell myself I’m not as bad as Mom. Stuffed animals, pillows. Two sets of scissors (see, I’m not exactly like my mom because I exhibit self-control, at least as far as scissors go).

Every so often, I’d read an article about the virtues of having a clean and organized workspace. I’d think seriously about getting my office in order. Marie Kondo became popular, and I thought I would follow her lead. But I usually got as far as shredding one stack of paper before I ran out of steam.

“Einstein had a messy desk, and he was a genius,” I’d think, despite my having never seen his desk and not knowing for sure where I first heard that. And even if his desk was disorganized, the messy desk of a math genius in the early part of last century isn’t valid justification when it takes me 2 weeks to find the latest hydro bill and by the time I find it it’s overdue and now I’m paying an additional $4 in late fees.

I’m no Einstein-level math genius, but even I know that four extra dollars sent to the hydro company is four dollars I can’t spend on avocado toast. Or scissors. But I viewed the extra cost as the price of creativity.

I rejected any notion that an office without distractions equals an undistracted mind. I excelled at completely ignoring the mess I worked in, possibly even denying its existence. I even held tightly to this notion that somehow my intelligence could be measured by how messy my desk got.

“Didn’t Tolstoy or Marilyn Monroe or Jesus say that a messy desk is the sign of a brilliance?” I’d think. “They couldn’t all have been wrong. Not when they’re agreeing with Einstein.”

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Then, recently, I had the opportunity to redo my office. To take out all the mess at once, paint the walls, and only put back what I needed. And it has been life changing. Or at least, work-life changing.

My office is now free of unneeded furniture. Books that sat unread for decades have been donated. The desk is clear of all but three papers, and all three papers are current. There are some touches of whimsy, because every office needs some whimsy, but they are well-contained.

Thanks to the extra space in my room, my desk now faces away from the wall, so I can look out my window or into my hallway without turning my head. There’s even space for my pup to have a bed, so he can join me if he so desires.

While I wouldn’t say I’m more productive in this clean office, here’s what I have noticed: I enjoy being in the space.

Before my massive overhaul, the office was a place I only went in for work purposes. I’d get my work done and get out of there as quickly as possible. I didn’t hate being in there, but I didn’t love it. Sometimes I would spend weeks working on my laptop at my kitchen table to give myself a break from being in the office, which I only just now realized is also exactly like my mom.

With the office done, I look for reasons to be in the space. It’s peaceful, calming. I’m no longer ignoring my surroundings because I love them.

It’s a more inviting space, and that makes my workdays more enjoyable.

The robot was my dad’s, the photo (hidden by the screen) was my mom’s, the World’s Okayest Boss plaque was from a friend

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I wish I could say I have some sort of Marie Kondo-like guidance for tidying your office, but I don’t. I can’t say that the stuff I kept gave me joy—the stuff I kept was what I felt I needed to be successful and productive. I got rid of books I’d had forever but never read. I was ruthless.

Two things facilitated this process: doing it all at once and removing everything from the office. It’s harder to justify keeping unused items when you have to spend the energy taking them back to the room and finding space for them. Once they’re out of the office, half the hard work of getting rid of them is done.

It was a massive undertaking. But doing it a little at a time, which I’d tried to do for years, got me nowhere. The mess just moved from one area of the room to another. As soon as I got one shelf under control, the desktop became a bigger disaster or vice versa.

Because I decided to paint the office, almost everything had to be taken out. That cleared up a lot of space and enabled me to see what the office could be. The opportunity to envision the office in a completely different way motivated and inspired me.

When I moved items back into the office, I only moved back what I needed. Everything else went in one of four places:

·      The garbage

·      Donations

·      Shredding/recycling

·      A special storage room downstairs so I can see if I need those items in the next 6-12 months. If they stay in storage without use during that time, they’ll go to the garbage, recycling or donations.

And now, anytime something goes into my office it gets put away immediately, because it has a place.

I am determined to break this cycle of office chaos I picked up from my mom.

Because truly, whether I’m more creative or brilliant or productive in a tidy office, I am infinitely happier. And I’ve saved a ton of time that was once wasted sifting through piles of paper looking for whatever I needed.

Not to mention that $4 in late fees.

Here’s to your continued success, however you define it,

Heidi