Spring Cleaning
OK, I admit it. I really don't like to clean. I mean, truly, I don't often get much satisfaction out of it. Some might even say I loathe it. But when I came home from vacation and through clear eyes saw the squalor I had been living in for months, it caught me by surprise. Now, this is not to say that I am a total pig by any stretch. In fact, if you don't ever look too closely, my apartment (at most times) can seem orderly and actually fairly civilized--that is, until the tradewinds blow a dust bunny across the floor in plain sight. Oops. Where did that come from?
Anyhow, this past week I finally decided that enough was enough. I set out to clean my place and was dead set on getting it done this time. Well after about a week had gone by (see how it got this way in the first place?), I finally got into the cleaning spirit. The first order of business: take care of the ceiling fan. I hadn't even noticed its dusty buildup whirring feverishly every single day until someone else kindly alerted me to it. Oh, so the ceiling fan isn't supposed to be white and gray after all? My bad. I don't even think it occurred to me that I could even clean the thing. Closer inspection revealed several inches of the fuzzy stuff on each wing. I wiped them all clean, watching the scuzz fall to the ground and imagining the fan breathing a sigh of relief as it was relieved of its heavy burdens. Hell, speaking of breath, I figured I would be inhaling alot easier now that this pollution wouldn't be circulating all around me while I sleep.
Next I began to attack the rest of the room, piece by piece. Fair (and somewhat embarrasing) disclosure: I live in a studio apartment, and not a very large one at that. I can only imagine what the rest of the world has to go through to keep whole houses clean. But on this day, after months of letting it all go, I felt it necessary to divide and conquer this small square space. I cleared dust and filth from places that I had never even realized were dusty and filthy. And the order of importance of items on which this mess had accumulated was not clear. Sentimental objects were just as likely as totally meaningless ones to need a good scrubdown. Nothing was sacred.
As I buffed away, I began to think about how this act of cleaning is sort of a microcosm of how I live my life. How we all live, in fact. We keep going and going and hardly even blink an eye as things begin to get just a little out of hand. Until, of course, one day we have our eyes opened to the mess we have made, and it becomes necessary to start the cleanup. I have heard people say that when they have a dirty house, they seem to simultaneously have a messy life. One seems to be symbolic of the other, intertwined even. Based on that hypothesis, where in my life did the cobwebs need to be cleared? What needed to be moved around, thrown away, or shined up? And most importantly given the state of this apartment, for whatever part of my life is in need of an overhaul, I have to ask: How did I let it get this way?
I decided that this time around, it was simply the right moment to clear the space. Having had so many rich and totally new experiences in the previous weeks during vacation, I came home and saw clearly what needed to be done. Sometimes that is all it takes, I guess--a fresh perspective. And now that my general living space looks presentable, I am beginning to look a little deeper. I get creeped out just a little by the drawers full of whothehellknowswhat that lurk in my kitchen. My closet doesn't seem as organized as it once did, even with its dearth of clothing. And oh by the way, I still haven't even tackled the bathroom yet.
Ah well. So the cleanup is underway, and probably should be ongoing anyway. I will address it all when the time is right. And come to think of it, I do feel a little lighter now in my shiny old digs. Maybe those people are correct, and the condition of my home is somehow reflective of the state of some part of me. If this is the case, then I am glad to be getting rid of the clutter. Get that broom out and sweep till you drop, Paul. And don't forget the corners, or all the dark crevaces that need attention. Might as well clean it all up while you are at it.
I know the dust will always accumulate. It's inevitable. But if I can see things clearly and honestly, then my home (and hopefully my life) will never need a total overhaul. In both instances, a fresh perspective seems to be the key to not letting things get out hand.
Anyhow, this past week I finally decided that enough was enough. I set out to clean my place and was dead set on getting it done this time. Well after about a week had gone by (see how it got this way in the first place?), I finally got into the cleaning spirit. The first order of business: take care of the ceiling fan. I hadn't even noticed its dusty buildup whirring feverishly every single day until someone else kindly alerted me to it. Oh, so the ceiling fan isn't supposed to be white and gray after all? My bad. I don't even think it occurred to me that I could even clean the thing. Closer inspection revealed several inches of the fuzzy stuff on each wing. I wiped them all clean, watching the scuzz fall to the ground and imagining the fan breathing a sigh of relief as it was relieved of its heavy burdens. Hell, speaking of breath, I figured I would be inhaling alot easier now that this pollution wouldn't be circulating all around me while I sleep.
Next I began to attack the rest of the room, piece by piece. Fair (and somewhat embarrasing) disclosure: I live in a studio apartment, and not a very large one at that. I can only imagine what the rest of the world has to go through to keep whole houses clean. But on this day, after months of letting it all go, I felt it necessary to divide and conquer this small square space. I cleared dust and filth from places that I had never even realized were dusty and filthy. And the order of importance of items on which this mess had accumulated was not clear. Sentimental objects were just as likely as totally meaningless ones to need a good scrubdown. Nothing was sacred.
As I buffed away, I began to think about how this act of cleaning is sort of a microcosm of how I live my life. How we all live, in fact. We keep going and going and hardly even blink an eye as things begin to get just a little out of hand. Until, of course, one day we have our eyes opened to the mess we have made, and it becomes necessary to start the cleanup. I have heard people say that when they have a dirty house, they seem to simultaneously have a messy life. One seems to be symbolic of the other, intertwined even. Based on that hypothesis, where in my life did the cobwebs need to be cleared? What needed to be moved around, thrown away, or shined up? And most importantly given the state of this apartment, for whatever part of my life is in need of an overhaul, I have to ask: How did I let it get this way?
I decided that this time around, it was simply the right moment to clear the space. Having had so many rich and totally new experiences in the previous weeks during vacation, I came home and saw clearly what needed to be done. Sometimes that is all it takes, I guess--a fresh perspective. And now that my general living space looks presentable, I am beginning to look a little deeper. I get creeped out just a little by the drawers full of whothehellknowswhat that lurk in my kitchen. My closet doesn't seem as organized as it once did, even with its dearth of clothing. And oh by the way, I still haven't even tackled the bathroom yet.
Ah well. So the cleanup is underway, and probably should be ongoing anyway. I will address it all when the time is right. And come to think of it, I do feel a little lighter now in my shiny old digs. Maybe those people are correct, and the condition of my home is somehow reflective of the state of some part of me. If this is the case, then I am glad to be getting rid of the clutter. Get that broom out and sweep till you drop, Paul. And don't forget the corners, or all the dark crevaces that need attention. Might as well clean it all up while you are at it.
I know the dust will always accumulate. It's inevitable. But if I can see things clearly and honestly, then my home (and hopefully my life) will never need a total overhaul. In both instances, a fresh perspective seems to be the key to not letting things get out hand.
Comments
I really liked this one. Cleaning takes a different meaning when you add kids into the mix. A room never stays the way you put it for more then, let say, 2 minutes! It's a great lesson in letting go. The best is to see another mother's house look like yours, it connects you to the basic human condition- very humbling. Peace.