I had begun this column when after three years of writing, I was compelled to tidy-up my column clippings and put them into proper storage. If I hadn’t had that tidy-up, I would not have known that I already titled a column, “Clean it up, Please.”
So, I re-read column number sixty-seven, from July, 2021, just to see what I had to say back then about cleaning-up. As it turns out, I have more to say about the subject. This, then is basically the same thought, but a different tangent on the matter.
Apparently, I repeat myself on occasion and as age would have it, I don’t remember. I did pause, however to wonder if cleaning up is a personal hangup, quirk, or obsession concerning whether I clean up too much, not enough or just carry around guilt about the effort.
It was Barney, the lovable pink dinosaur from PBS TV in the 90s who taught our little ones at the time, to “clean up, clean up, everybody, do your share;” at least I think that’s how it went. And, I am quite familiar with a musical composition set for snare drum, which bears the title, “Clean it up, Please,” reminding the player to mind their technique (Robin Engelman).
At any rate, it is during the transition seasons, Fall and Spring, that we tend to do some cleaning, If not cleaning, we at least do a little bit of redecorating.
Both cleaning and decorating are relative to the observer as well as the cleaner and decorator. Other folks may wish we would “clean-up” this or that if it disturbs their definition of “cleaned-up.”
If your idea of “cleaned-up,” is perfection: no blemishes, flaws, defects, irregularities, and perfectly neat and complete; you may be setting yourself up for anxiety out there among the rest of us. Everybody is flawed, behind their perfectly coifed facades.
I would go so far as to say I am a minimalist as to my redecorating for the seasons. I usually go with a few subtle symbolic reminders of the seasonal change. It’s enough to suit my sensibilities.
Some people, however, go all-out. Their decorating is on a whole other level. It’s not just one pumpkin, rabbit, scarecrow, strand of lights, or wreath, but multiples, in every color, texture, and shape.
What some people think are nice decorations, are over-the-top for the next guy. My idea of seasonal decorating is rather subdued, gracefully spare, if you will. But some guys like ornate and that should be filed under, “to each, his/her own.”
And, have you ever felt rather proud of yourself for cleaning-up a room, a landscape, space, or nook, gone somewhere else and observed their “cleaned-up” space and suddenly felt inadequate? There are people, ordinary friends or family members who are professional caliber cleaner-uppers. Sadly, I am not one of these persons.
I do, however, have a thing about putting stuff away. My spouse is unfamiliar with the habit, just sayin’. He gets the concept and values the reasons, but can’t seem to coalesce all of that esoteric stuff into practice.
To me, it comes naturally. When I say naturally, I am assuming that I was brought up putting things away, hubby was not.
In case you are unfamiliar, the idea of putting things away, or “in their place,” is founded on several principals. One, is that if every item has a place and one puts it in its place every time it is pulled out and used, you know exactly where to get it again when you again need it.
If an item is not put away after use, it inevitably gets misplaced and “lost.” When you need to use it again, there is a whole circus of maneuvers trying to find said item. You waste time trying to find thus and such every time it was used and not put back in its place.
Secondly, when you don’t put things away, the law of accumulation is set into motion. Clutter and chaos ensue when things are not put away and a mole-hill truly becomes a mountain of stuff.
The thing about stuff is it becomes dated, unnecessary, a haven for dust, dirt, and decay. Stuff is meant to benefit our daily lives, whether it’s pleasing to the eye as in decoration or collections that make us happy. Or, stuff is utilitarian, intended to ease our existence in some manner.
The main purpose of stuff is not just to “have” it, “keep” it or store it. There is something in the Bible, known as the “parable of the rich fool,” about building bigger barns for storing more stuff; as in, it’s not recommended for the wise among us.
Okay, give me another three years, and I’ll probably write about cleaning up again. I can’t see at this point that I’ll get over my proclivity toward cleaning up the stuff that tries to fill up my life when I’m of an age where paring down and cutting back seems to be imploding from within. God help my husband.