“Having a simplified, uncluttered home is a form of self-care.”
— Emma Scheib
I really do believe that clutter can prevent a person from realizing their goals, being efficient, and feeling settled and satisfied. No one wants to be tripping over their shoes and surrounded by piles of paperwork. It’s a massive struggle for me, but I have to say this quote really made me think about clutter and cleaning differently.
Full disclosure: I stink at it. I am the queen of clutter and always have been. Yes, there are books to help — I own several of them. Yes, there are people you can hire to help, and they are angels among us. Cleaning out a closet, a shelf, or a room is, for me, a chore. It’s quite often about pleasing someone else or living up to some idealized version of what a home is “supposed” to look like.
I love having friends over, and while someone dropping by casually for a cuppa or stopping in to say hi is no big deal, hosting a gathering where actual invitations go out and drinks and snacks are involved is very different. Since I lack the self-motivation to get my house in order, a party is the external motivation I need to get it in gear.
So, I invent some silly reason to have people over, and then a switch goes off in my head. I run around like a maniac, scrubbing floors and tossing things in the trash. My inner voice screams, “Oh my God, what will they think?” This wasn’t self-care, it was a distorted, self-imposed societal standard I had to meet.
Self-care is when you buy yourself flowers or splurge on a new pair of shoes. Self-care is a relaxing hot bath with a good book; it’s choosing the more expensive shampoo and conditioner as a special treat. It’s not sweating your butt off, shoveling out a porch, or organizing a closet.
Or is it?
This past weekend, a dear friend came for a visit, and she is someone who can organize anything. She has the skill to see a room full of crap and know precisely how to manage it. She also understands that sometimes, “all you can do is all you can do.”
My house has a breezeway as the main entrance. It’s become a dumping ground for pretty much everything. It was at critical mass, so my friend came to the rescue. Not to do it for me, but rather to direct, keep me on task, and show me a better way to manage the process. The space is now clean and organized, and lots of the “stuff” went to the trash, the sidewalk for passersby, or a proper place in the house. It’s amazing!
Honestly, a bunch of flowers or a good lotion that smells like vanilla cookies never made me feel this way. Admittedly, the pair of vintage Frye boots at a thrift shop for $50 did, but usually, self-care moments give me guilt trips.
Do I feel better? Absolutely. That feeling is still with me. Maybe it’s a short-acting brain hit of dopamine, but perhaps some of it will stick. Some shelves in my dining room are a jumble; they’ll be done today. There is a Post-It note in each room of tasks that come next. I dusted the bits and bobs on my two favorite shelves holding my Waterford pieces and pug collection. If that’s not a shift in the space-time continuum, nothing is.
It will take work to keep up with this new attitude. It won’t be easy, and I will fall off the wagon a few times, but who doesn’t when they’re pivoting to a new outlook? I make no promises other than to do my best, which is all we should expect from anyone.
Gotta go now; the pantry cabinets are calling my name.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years, and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.