by Kerry Schafer
Full disclosure. I am not what you’d call top shelf housewifely material (sorry, Mom, I know you tried). When it comes to cleaning, I tend to have two settings:
Clean House Radar On: obsessive awareness of every little speck of dust, every muddy footprint, every dish left in the sink, and every item left where it doesn’t belong. Clean House Radar Off: blissful oblivion.
Okay, I’m exaggerating a little. Our house is reasonably clean and I’m not a hoarder or anything, but Better Homes and Gardens we are not. There are so many other much more satisfying and rewarding things to do with my time.
When I write a book, for example, nobody comes along behind me and undoes sentences as I type them. If an artist paints a picture, it stays painted. Housework, on the other hand, does not stay done. If you wash the dishes, clean off the counters, and polish the sink until it shines — inevitably somebody is going to have a snack. Probably the minute you sit down for a well-earned rest. Crumbs on the counter. Dirty dishes in that spotless sink. If you vacuum and mop the floors, the dogs are going to track in mud and the cats are going to make a point of immediately shedding all over the carpet.
Clean the toilet, and… well, you get the idea.
And then, of course, there’s clutter. The Viking and I discuss, off and on, the fact that any empty flat surface is a breeding ground for clutter. I’m pretty sure it proliferates itself when I’m not looking. And then there is the drawer. You know the one, stuffed full of things that you’re maybe going to need someday like elastic bands, unused birthday candles, paper clips, seed packets, twist ties, and wine corks. It’s the drawer that jams when you try to open it. When you manage to yank it open, random items fall out and you have to cram them back in.
If you do not have such a drawer, you and I cannot ever be friends.
Some of us (I’m speaking theoretically and admit to nothing) might even have multiple such drawers. Maybe also some shelves and a closet or two, all harboring things that might be needed someday. And then there are those clothes that used to fit two years ago and will surely magically fit again someday.
I’m not particularly fond of decluttering, but it feels much more satisfying than regular cleaning. It can also be fascinating, sort of like an archeologist working through the layers of years, making new discoveries all along the way – for about 15 minutes, anyway.
A big decluttering and reorganizing project feels great while inspired. When that fades away, it’s pure, boring drudgery.
Still, I’m motivated to keep trying by the theory that there is stagnant energy attached to stored objects that can make us feel stuck. Yes, I know that’s a little on the woo-woo side, but more practically, there’s the simple frustration of a drawer that doesn’t open properly and of being out of space to store more things.
Marie Condo, the renowned diva of decluttering, suggests asking the question, “Does this object give you joy?” And if the answer is “no,” out it goes. Maybe this works for some people, but Marie absolutely lost me the day she suggested decluttering book collections. This is heresy and anathema to my book-loving soul, and I’ve had no time for her ever since.
Recently, I attempted something called the “Nine Day, 21 Item” method, which is exactly what it sounds like. You commit to donating or discarding 21 things for nine consecutive days. If you miss a day, you’re supposed to start your nine days over again from the beginning. The idea is that you build momentum, moving into a positive flow of spaciousness and a clutter-free mentality. Easy-peasy, right? How could I possibly fail?
I think we can all see where this is going.
It worked out exactly as might have been expected, in that I did great for about five days and then missed a day and was definitely not starting over. Especially since I’d already gotten rid of all of the really easy things that I’d planned on discarding anyway. On a side note, if you’ve ever filled a box to take to Goodwill only to have it still sitting in your garage a year later (again, I admit nothing!) you are not alone.
You know what actually worked for me? A super easy challenge on an online productivity and self-care app called Finch. The challenge includes 14 spring cleaning tasks during the month of March. One of them was to clean out one drawer. Okay, I could do that. I picked an easy drawer. Not much in there. And then I got to tap the little checkmark on the app that I’d done the thing and was instantly rewarded by stars and confetti as well as the promise of even more stars and confetti if I complete another spring-cleaning challenge.
Here’s the interesting part. I went on to clean TWO MORE drawers after that first one. Bonus points! Not from the app, just from my own inner cheering section. I’m feeling like I might do a few more, covertly and quietly so as not to invoke my own resistance. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even finally take the box to the Goodwill and start in on another.
Sometimes, it seems, a really small goal can move us forward farther and faster than a big one.
Colville resident Kerry Schafer (who also writes as Kerry Anne King) is the bestselling author of 15 novels, the co-host of The One Happy Thing Podcast, and a licensed mental health counselor. Find out more at www.allthingskerry.com
