THE BLACK HOLE - What My Messy Desktop Taught Me About Coping

When I’m working on my computer, it seems like I always find myself saving every file I think I might need to the desktop. It’s the worst habit, I know, but I somehow cannot keep myself from using my home screen as a catch-all for things I feel like I might need to keep—any PDF, JPEG, or Illustrator file. This practice continues for days, weeks, or even months until eventually I open my laptop to find the screen completely—and suffocatingly—full of random things I once thought I needed.

• Screenshots of a recipe I didn’t want to forget but was either too lazy or too busy to save the link into an Apple Notes folder.

• A copy of a document that was a copy of a document that ended up not being the final document.

• A font file I thought would be cool for a Kind Mind Counseling brochure but didn’t end up using because it just didn’t fit the vibe.

All of these things pile on top of one another, cluttering my desktop. And then, as I stare into a sea of icons named things like “untitled,” “untitled 2,” or “untitled FINAL,” I find myself completely immobilized—unable to make sense of the mess that has slowly built over time.

What am I to do with the crowded chaos littering the space I once designated to create, communicate, and do work worth doing? The only logical thing, of course: I select all the icons, right-click, and move them into a folder dubbed “BLACK HOLE.” Suddenly, the desktop feels fresh—new. It feels like I can breathe again. I can see the artwork I chose to adorn my home screen. Nothing distracts from the news and weather widgets that abide there. And all that remains in the wake of my disorganization is a tiny, blue folder.

But alas, my desktop organization victory is short-lived—because, as you might expect, it inevitably happens again. This time when my desktop becomes crowded, I will again select all and move everything—including the original “BLACK HOLE” folder—into a new one: “GINORMOUS BLACK HOLE.”

You, the reader, may wince at my admittedly problematic workflow. I understand. This ‘faux organization’ wouldn’t work for you. And though my approach to making sense of a crowded mess of miscellaneous files likely seems unbearable to many people—it has worked for me.

Let me be clear—this process ‘working for me’ doesn’t necessarily mean it will ultimately support a successful workflow or lead to greater productivity. However, when something like dumping all my files into a folder ‘works for me,’ it’s really just helping me get from one moment to the next.

What is ‘working for you’?

My guess is there are probably a few things you do, sometimes without realizing, in order to just keep going. You might be thinking of that specific behavior or habit right this moment. I’m curious about what emotions come up for you as you consider what your little fixes might be. If it is something that feels like embarrassment, shame, disappointment, or guilt—please know you are in good company and I have an Olympic-sized swimming pool’s worth of compassion for you. Sometimes the distance between “Point A” and “Point B” can feel bigger than the state of Texas, and your little moves (whether deliberate or subconscious) make the journey feel a bit more doable.

It reminds me of what it feels like to make minimum payments on a high-interest debt—you’re doing something to manage the debt, but the progress is painfully slow.

Life brings heartache, disappointment, stress, and our brilliant human systems come up with a host of tiny little moves that help us stay regulated a little bit at a time. Sometimes these solutions can look adaptive and provide us with exactly what we need in order to inch closer to the more actualized version of ourselves that we often dream about becoming. Sometimes these moves are quite the opposite and can resemble something like that guy who slaps tape over a hole in the side of a gushing tank of water. It’ll do in a pinch, but the fix is temporary.

Do you have any “BLACK HOLE” folders? What would it look like to approach these movements with curiosity rather than shame? How we cope doesn’t have to be perfect in order to be valid—but noticing how we cope gives us a chance to eventually choose something more helpful. Whatever you’re doing to get from moment to moment, I want to urge you to extend compassion to yourself. You’re brave to even begin contemplating what these strategies look like.

I’m cheering for you.

-Scott