|Where is the Balance in Moving?!|
The height of the boxes almost cover the windows. Newspapers swallow up the dinning room table. “Where is this, where is that?” The family yells. Every time I turn a corner dust bunnies the size of tennis balls are lying in wait to pounce on me.
This chaotic picture I’m painting is the preparation for moving house.
I come from a long line of women who are clean freaks. I kid you not, you could have a full meal at my grandmother’s house and use the floor as your plate. In fact her floors are cleaner than your plates!
Every Saturday morning while growing up with my single mom it was a ritual to take the whole day and scrub the house from top to bottom. Because who knew if someone would just pop in unannounced. I equate it to having clean underwear on in case you get into a car accident. WHO CARES!!
As I grew older this obsession of cleanliness of theirs became absurd to me. Yet I was beginning to develop the same characteristics of this obsession.
As a newly wed I remember putting my poor new husband through the same Saturday ritual. When my children came along I couldn’t function very well outside my home if I knew that I had left it dirty.
I always used to joke and secretly dread about us having to move one day. The pinnacle of messy and unorganized. Just thinking about it made my blood pressure rise.
Well here we are. Moving. All my worst fears have come true. Or so I thought. Having a few Science of Mind classes under my belt gave me some tools to cope.
Nowadays I’d rather spend the day at the beach with my kids than have a clean house. My life is temporarily in chaos and I know there will be an end. If someone happens to stop by unexpectedly and my house is a mess and they judge me for that, well, too bad for them. I’m still an ok person.
When I die I don’t want to only be remembered for a clean house. There is no balance in moving. At all.
Life is messy. Don’t be afraid of getting your hands dirty once in awhile. Go to the beach instead!