Relationship

The happiness that springs from a clean house

Some time ago I read the book The happiness project by Gretchen Rubin. She is a 12-month guide to finding contentment and happiness in life. Well, after I finished it, I didn’t feel happy but completely angry. The only thing I really understood was basically if I can complete a task in less than a minute, get up and do it now. This strategy actually works in a number of ways including that I don’t forget the task as I jumped in and completed it and feel happy. I can cross that job off my “to do” list.

The rest of the book focused (in my mind) on cleanliness: closets, bookshelves, storage rooms, and, in fact, the entire house. And of course, house cleaning extends to cleaning the office, classroom, or company vehicle or maybe even tidying things up in a public area. Cleaning, it seems, is contagious and sets the cleaner on fire to make more and more and more. The only remedy is more cleaning. Cleaning is also supposed to make me happy. Bah! was my initial reaction to such nonsense. If cleaning is the happiest thing I can ever be, well, happiness is pretty overrated.

Deciding to give this project a second chance, today I tested this theory of happiness. With my husband away, I had the time, energy, and determination to delve into a much-needed housecleaning. I started before the sun came up and even skipped reading the morning paper. Coffee in hand, I began the happiness cleanse. I chose the guest room because it would be the easiest and fastest. With garbage bags, mops, dusters, and cleaning fluids, I launched into a whirlwind of activity. I moved furniture, dusted, tossed, rearranged shelves, and by God, I felt better.

I moved into my son’s room, following the same routine apart from the throwing part. After all, his trash is his trash. He just needed to make me feel good, not destroy his serenity. Mainly, his room is full of dog hair from a short-haired dog that sheds throughout the year in clumps and drops. This furry mess is disgusting and a bit overwhelming unless you have a strong stomach and fierce resolve. From there I went to the office, the storage room, the bedrooms and then the living room. The kitchen received a meticulous scrubbing as did the bathrooms. Then came the windows and I washed them inside and out with delight and thoroughness. It’s hard to believe that this cleaning job was giving me so much joy.

So I attacked the courtyard with vigor and energy. I mowed, watered damaged spots, and pulled out dandelions and other unsightly weeds. I loaded bags of junk into the truck for a dumpster with a separate pile for donation. Between jobs, I ate delicious leftovers and plenty of water and iced tea, and by 6 pm, twelve hours later, things were sparkling. I suppose there is some wisdom in house cleaning and yard work. Although I am currently exhausted, I can look around my house and feel quite proud, plus I know that tomorrow I will be able to find things since the closets have been organized and my desk has open spaces. Or maybe in the morning I’ll kick myself for throwing away treasure while digging through my rearranged chaos and then remember why this happiness thing had made me so mad.

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