This week I have been cleaning a few corners here and there around the house. I don’t know what has come over me, but I don’t think it will last long. For some reason, when I walked through the house the other day, I saw it as a visitor would and cringed at some of the intermittent chaos that is my own doing. My dresser, for instance, was a collection of piles and dustbunnies, while the closet in the guest room was much like Fibber McGee’s proverbial chamber. Ironically, most of the guest room bedding was carefully piled next to the sofabed rather than residing on the closet shelf just a few feet away. So, I decided to tackle a new vignette every day until I no longer feel like a slob.
I should probably do the same thing with other parts of my life. It seems to me that the act of living is messy, leaving strewn emotions and untended dreams piling up in corners, lost relationships gathering dust under beds of distraction. I have a tendency to ignore such clutter until I trip over it. Who or what have I put on hold, neglected, or hurt? Is there someone who needed me to listen, but I was preoccupied? Or needed me to act, but I held back or missed the cue? Have I become too self-centered and missed the opportunity to do good for someone else? Why do I want things that seem to conflict? How can I soothe my restlessness? Do I focus too much on criticism and not enough on joy? Why is that? Where is my joy? What are my dreams? Who is my treasure? Where am I going? How will I know?
Yep. It is time to clean house – one corner at a time.
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