There are different degrees to which one can clean their room.
There is the hasty hideaway situation which refers to the two minute procedure of removing everything that qualifies as mess and relocating said collection to a place that is conveniently out of sight.
Then there are the sorting and organizing projects that result in closet contents spread out across the floor. An explosion of personal chaos is necessary before each object is carefully considered; It's value, it's function, which drawer it belongs in, or whether its purpose has expired. Sometimes things that have been missing turn up beneath a wrinkled sweater, or a memory slips out from between the pages of a notebook that's only been written in a handful of times.
Several days ago, I bravely emptied a cabinet I had neglected to explore the depths of for quite a while. Without going into great detail, I'll admit: I found useful things that I had completely forgotten owning, and things that reminded me of the hobbies and aspirations of my sixteen year old self.
Although the drawers of the cabinet were ones I opened on a daily basis, the layers beneath the surface of commonly used pens and notepads were practically untouched.
I found origami and ribbon, thank you cards, and sentimental book marks... objects that triggered a tide of nostalgia and inspiration.
I had bought more supplies, more trinkets, more... stuff since last sorting the drawer and I realized how much excess I had unintentionally managed to accumulate.
The mundane task of sorting my cabinet made me acknowledge the possibility that it was about time I sorted myself.
When was the last time I wrote out a complete list of my values and priorities, my beliefs, and dreams? When was the last time I forced myself to consider my strengths and my weaknesses? Then, once I had the list... when was the last time I analyzed it for inconsistencies or unrealistic fantasies.
Like purchasing a pack of sharpies when you already have five lying in your cabinet; making trendy, unhelpful resolutions are a waste of energy and are very inefficient. Why prioritize loosing five pounds when you're already healthy, but can't remember the last time you did something for someone else.
Why resolve to learn the mandolin, when you've barely touched the ukulele you have? Pausing to reflect on who you are right now, and all that you have to work with, might reveal that New Year's resolutions don't necessarily mean starting from scratch, but rather adding to the existing character you've already been developing your entire life.