Music speaks to my soul. It breathes life into me, has me moving, and singing and dancing. When I clean, I blast music and dance around almost as much I clean. It’s cathartic. It’s cleansing to me. If I’ve had a bad day, or a bad week, or I’m grieving or upset, that’s what I do. I clean. The day my mother-in-law passed away I came home and started cleaning my entire yard. A project I had put off for a long while.
I cannot say why cleaning does this for me. My parent’s used to fight about how clean the house was or wasn’t. So if they went out, we all cleaned to surprise them. It made for happier times. I prefer clean. And still, it’s something I’m great at putting off. It doesn’t help that I’m insanely sensitive to smell and cleaning smells are the worst right up there with strong perfumes. My husband is amused by my cleaning habits.
After having a kid, well, it became hard to plug in headphones or blast music as loud as I want. It’s getting to were I can do it again, because he’s getting older. I used to kick him and my husband out so I could clean all day.
However, after moving into this house, and having my son… well, I’ve begun to notice something.
The very word sounds awful. I’ve been coming to terms with my clutter. All my tiny little things did not use to bother me. Until I had a kid, and he had ALL the tiny little things. And medium things. And big things. The cleaning needed amplified. The stuff… all the stuff… I really began to see it as clutter.
My husband’s man cave became a dumping ground for things I don’t want to deal with. It’s full to the brim. I had it better, and it’s back to it again. I’m tired of all the clutter. It drains one’s brain if one likes clean. It seems there are endless cleaning projects.
I’m happy to say I’ve rid myself of about two playpen’s worth of my own clothes. My hubby is working on his. (On a side note, my husband is a pack rat and messy to boot. Not fun). I’m working on Xander’s toys, and stuff. I’m trying to get rid of blankets, and such things. I’ve even got rid of books.
I SHALL DEFEAT THE CLUTTER.
So the lesson learned here is, be careful with what you gather. For one thing, it makes moving awful. For another, it’s a lot of money wasted, and I’ve come to know this lesson all too well. Plus, it’s more to clean. More to declutter later. You’re life becomes about stuff, not living life. Though… I will always have LOTS of books. That’s my one exemption. And maybe shoes…