Lady of the Perpetual Pile
One thing I love about cleaning is how subjective it is. There is no standard of “this is clean” where everyone will sign off on it. Sterile isn’t necessarily clean; there could be an annoying amount of clutter. Tidy isn’t necessarily clean, each item could be covered in old food and dirt (which some might consider dirty!) I love to have a little fun poking at myself with my own cleaning habits, looking in my own mirror and seeing my own human face.
For instance (and this story only applies to my own personal space):
I love being barefoot in my house, and I dislike when my bare feet walk on *things* on the floor.
You know– little rocks, sticks, pebbles, pine needles, paper bits… but especially, *especially* (and it's not Legos!), especially food. I do not like walking on bits of food.
If I'm outside, I love walking in the grass and don’t mind non-grass extras (other than dog poop, haha…). I don't mind walking on concrete. I can walk in gravel. I can enjoy walking on all sorts of surfaces. It's not about the sensitivity of my feet.
It's about the enjoyment of walking inside my home and what I want the floor to feel like. And so I sweep or use a dust mop often. I received the name “Lady of the Perpetual Pile” in a home I lived in with my four kids and now ex. I was lucky to have a kitchen and dining area with a lot of floor, and after each meal eaten inside I would dust mop the entire floor and remove those things I didn’t want to walk on in my bare feet.
I say ‘remove.’
I removed them from the spaciousness of the floor, but I would just tuck them into a little pile underneath the overhang of the lower cabinet in the kitchen. I’d add to it throughout the day (and to be honest, often throughout the week), just keep adding to that pile, adding and adding.
A lot of people might consider it gross. For me, it was kind of in the shadow of the overhang and tucked out of the way so I didn't much notice it. My eyes didn't stop on it in the same way other things would catch my attention, asking to be tended to.
And so I would just keep growing this pile, and then at some point I would notice it, dustpan it up, and start a new one. I kind of love the name ‘Lady of the Perpetual Pile.’ It’s a reminder and a poke. A reminder to be playful, and a poke to tend to the pile! Take this as metaphorically as you like. I am, but I’m not going to beat it. I adopted the name, owned it, wore it, loved it, and I actually attend to piles much more quickly and with more ease than I used to.
In a way, I could have a giggle of what might be considered a shortcoming; it’s kind of funny that I’d put the time and energy into dust mopping this huge floor three times a day but then wouldn’t finish it. And, honestly, I didn't care. It was a level of clean that felt good for *me*, and became something to laugh about. It was an area of improvement (on follow-through), but I was not stressing about it.
And that is something important about cleaning for me – in my own home, not stressing about it or holding it to someone else’s standards makes it more fun.
What I *did* enjoy was walking on the floor in my bare feet, and playing on the floor with my kids.
And I also enjoyed just getting down on my hands and knees with a washcloth to spot clean the stickier, yuckier food-type stuff that is not dust mop or broom-friendly. So overall that boost in enjoyment was enough for me to not pick up the pile but be okay with it.
And it’s funny, occasionally these days I have a pile going, but I don’t leave it long, and I do usually have a bit of an internal chuckle each time I sweet it up.
So, yeah…
Tip: Do what you can to enjoy it. Have a little fun. Do it to your own standard, and be playful about what that standard is.
