I’VE been thinking a lot recently about the simple act of tidying up and how absolutely magic it can make you feel.
I was quite messy as a wee guy, forever leaving stuff at my backside.
Piles of clothes littered my room, dirty plates and cups hidden in corners among other wee guy detritus.
My maw was always on my case about it, getting on at me until I finally caved and sorted it out. Then as I got older, I became more and more tidy. A place for everything and everything in its place was something my maw drilled into me.
You just feel better in a clean and tidy environment, more productive and generally happier and more relaxed.
When I moved out of my maw’s house for the first time when I
was 21, I realised it was easy to keep tidy when you’re living at home.
All you really need to look after is your bedroom while your maw takes care of the rest of the house. It was only a wee flat I was living in but sometimes it felt like a mansion when I undertook my weekly deep clean. The weekly clean was bad enough, but every day I now had to do the dishes? I had to clean the bath and the toilet pan? Surely they’re self-cleaning? Where’s all the towels went? Why do I have no clean clothes? There’s nothing in the fridge for my dinner?
As all these tasks, which I previously thought were small and took up no time at all, mounted up, I found I had a new-found appreciation for my maw.
She simply did everything and I took it for granted. I remember once she said she was going to drop in and see me after her work. I took one look around at the unwashed dishes and unhoovered floor and was overcome with a severe case of mortification. She’d be furious if she saw how I was living. It was like something out of Men Behaving Badly.
I had to lie to her and tell her I was working but she could come up the next day.
I spent the whole night and all of the next day scrubbing away. When I was done, the place looked like a showhome. In fact, it looked better than that, it looked like my maw herself had tidied and cleaned it.
As my maw arrived, I proudly showed off my handiwork. I felt like a wee boy again, showing her about my bedroom after I’d tidied it up. ‘Very nice,’ she said, surveying the flat. ‘I’ve taught you well.’
What struck me most after I’d cleaned up the mess, was how good I felt after it. Along with the satisfaction of doing a job and doing it well, all the stress I’d felt from work and other stuff seemed to just melt away with each act of cleaning I undertook.
It was as if the flat was a reflection of my brain; if inside my head was a bit of a riot then my environment would reflect that.
When I tidied up the flat, I was actually sorting out my head. It was a brilliant feeling.
I’ve caught myself recently making a mess of my current place just so I can get more of a dunt off cleaning it.
I especially love the day after you’ve done a big clean and you cut about the house being extra tidy and careful.
Fearing that if you make one bit of mess it’ll snowball and you’ll have undone all your hard work.
I sometimes just sit on the couch for a bit and let the fresh smelling air wrap around me. I feel calm and serene. I have reached a perfect state of zen.
Then I make my dinner and decide to leave the dishes til the next morning. Maybe I’ll have a packet of crisps in front of the telly and leave the empty packet lying next to me.
The next morning, I’ll make a bit of toast and not deal with the crumbs on the worktop. Maybe I’ll leave my clothes in a pile on the toilet floor after I’ve had a shower. All of a sudden I’m feeling stressed out again and don’t know why. The cycle begins again.
I wonder if the only way for me to be constantly chilled out is to live in a completely sterile and minimal white room where there is simply no way to make mess.
I know things like depression and anxiety can lead you into a spiral where you can barely look after yourself, never mind your environment, and cleaning and tidying tend to be neglected.
Even just putting some stuff away can feel like a herculean task but just a wee thing like making your bed can make you feel a bit better and I recommend it to anyone having a bit of a hard time, even just to take your mind off things for a bit.
It obviously won’t solve all your problems or be a magic quick fix, but it can certainly help in a small way and make you feel like you’ve achieved something that day.
Anyway, I’ve got dishes to do and the dug has just ripped a Christmas card into extremely small bits of confetti.
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