Just-In-Time? or Just-In-Case?

I recently read this article, called "When and How to Say Enough." This author claims that a lot of our woes, from clutter to weight gain, come from the subconscious idea from caveman times, that good things in life are scarce and you have to gather them when you find em, just in case. But in modern times, things are abundant and come into your life when you need them - synchronicity, or just-in-time. And that disconnect between modern life and ancient impulses is the problem. I thought her "excercises" at the end of the article might make a good blog challenge. It turned out to be more "challenging" than I'd bargained for!

* List 10 times you thought that there wouldn't be enough of something and you survived.
1: Right before laundry day, I invariably think I have nothing to wear. Also invariably, I've never ever gone to work stark naked. Therefore, I did have something to wear after all. Just that it was something that I didn't like as much as the stuff I'd already worn. Or, I retrieved a pair of jeans from the laundry bag that were "relatively clean."
2: I had just put in an offer on my first home, a townhouse, and underestimated how much earnest money I'd need. This resulted in my standing in the grocery store with $3 until my next paycheck. (A good friend offered me a loan, which I took, and paid back at the end of the month.)
3: My bedroom as a kid had what I considered waaay too little bookshelf space for my collection of science-fiction paperbacks and knicknacks. Then I figured out that stacking the books double-deep gave me all the space I needed, looked good, AND created a couple of cool little hiding spots in back for treasures.
4: Skill: Our boat had developed engine trouble and we had to come into the marina's work slip under sail. I had never even practiced doing this before and now I had to do it for real - and the slip was lined with iron rails so a mishap could cause some damage. I did it awkwardly, inelegantly and a little too fast - but right on, and no one was hurt and nothing was damaged.
5: I probably shouldn't mention all the times I came into the gas station and put 13.8 gallons into a 14-gallon gas tank, should I?
6: This is just HARD. I can't think of 10. Does that mean I've led a pampered life?

* List 10 areas where you have too much, not too little.
Only 10?
1: Foodie condiments we tried, and thought we'd enjoy making this style of food, so we bought several bottles, only to later get bored before we'd used them all up and moved on to something else.
2: iPod songs, we got a bunch of collections from a friend that are so overwhelming we've never tackled the project of listening to them and sorting through to decide which to keep. Also a bunch we ripped from borrowed CDs, and again never organized. We have no idea what we've got and haven't ever listened to many of them.
3: clothing (see above)
4: building materials either left over from other projects, or salvage. We're imaginative to be able to visualize uses for these things, and eco-conscious enough not to want to just put them in a dumpster. But some projects will probably never get done, so these things just sit there, taking up storage space.
5: scented candles. I can visualize myself lighting them and enjoying their fragrance, but I buy them faster than I use them up.
6: shampoos and hair products I fell for the advertising promises, tried them once, didn't like them, and ... left the partially used bottle in the back of the cabinet.
7: note cards. I buy cute ones, but usually end up just emailing.
8: dried beans. I think this is a carryover from when we lived in the plains of Colorado about 45 minutes in good weather from the nearest grocery store. We could still eat for several weeks just from the foods we have aboard.
9: soup recipes to try "someday." And, we're moving to a warm climate, how often are we going to make soup anyway?
10: cool art, photos in frames, and other decorations for the walls. My parents had collected so much that there wasn't a spare inch of wall space in their home, anything but restful. You couldn't appreciate any one thing, it was so crowded, jumbled, distracting.
11: pens. Okay, this is a weird one. Mostly we accumulate souvenir pens, free giveaways with some company's name printed on them. What makes it weird is that I always write in pencil. 12: Xmas decorations. We have enough to decorate the 3500 sq ft Victorian we lived in when we were stationed in Wyoming. But we'll never own anything that big again. Our boat is 33 feet long by 11 feet at its widest. Our condo (currently rented out) is about 1000 square feet. I don't have enought space to put all those decos up if I wanted to. And now, I having that many "decorations per inch" is no longer my style. I'm favoring a lighter touch - less is more.
13: Boat Fenders. When people tie them badly, they often break free and drift away. We often see them floating by and take them. But, we have enough for our boat, we've given many away to friends and dock neighbors, and still have surplus.
14: Casual acquaintances and e-quaintances. The problem with these is that these relatively shallow relationships that are going nowhere take emotional time and energy away from nurturing the relationships with my true friends and e-friends. (If I sent you the link to read this, you're NOT one of the casual ones!) Especially those who travel, I'm all about out-of-sight, out-of-mind.

* List 20—or 50, or 1,000—wonderful things that entered your life just at the right time, with no effort on your part. Start with the little things (oxygen, sunlight, a song on the radio). You'll soon think of bigger ones. Most [people] realize that the most important things in their lives showed up this way.
I realized that all the IRL friends in my life arrived this way. J. and E., who we met when their little dog ran up to me in the parking lot when they had just moved here. D., whose charter sailboat business was being represented by a woman who was best friends with my office mate. All the cats and dog we had as pets (most arrived as strays). My college roommate and BFF Karen (how we met is lost in the mists of antiquity and freshman year). Our boat - friend D. saw it on a website and thought it would be perfect for us. We didn't even know we were looking, yet. Boat fenders (see above). Our artificial Xmas tree - it was a display model in the store in
Wyoming, offered for 1/2 price on Dec 22. The store manager decided it would be cheaper to leave all the decorations on than to pay the staff time to remove them (and they couldn't sell them without the packages anyway), so he included them all for free. We had absolutely nothing at that time early in our marriage, so it was a wonderful gift! Jobs - I have to admit, I've never applied for any job I've ever gotten, they've always contacted me, or invited me to apply, or interagency personnel agreements. Though, I did apply for several that I didn't get, and I realized later, would have been totally wrong for me. A raft trip down the Grand Canyon as part of a science expedition - a colleague was organizing part of the trip and needed about 30 people to help, any relevant experience at all. Right place, right time. The surgeon for Dan's cancer surgery. Recently, we ran into an old acquaintance who brought us up to date on his own cancer woes (he's well now) and mentioned that he had searched for weeks to find the great doctor who he used. He asked Dan how we'd found Dr. B. Dan replied, pure luck - this was emergency surgery and it was the nearest hospital ... which just happened to have the first Novalis machine on the mid-Atlantic coast. This list could go on forever, which is why I wrote it stream-of-consciousness style instead of numbering it. I suspect I, like the article's author, will still be thinking of things 3 years later.