Friday, November 29, 2013
Staying organized is about overcoming resistance.
Keeping house is about overcoming resistance.
Keeping fit is about overcoming resistance.
In fact, doing anything difficult, anything that doesn't come naturally to you, paying off debt, living well within a budget, taking showers, accepting help, forgiveness: all of it requires overcoming resistance.
It may be internal. A lack of motivation, or a certain kind of inertia that takes over the minute we step out of bed. A lack of know-how. A lack of discipline. Overwhelm.
It may be external. No time, no opportunities, no space.
Today, I was paralysed. Utterly.
I got up late. My first words of the day, still in bed, were a moan and “Oh no.” I have to get up early tomorrow. I work at 7am. I will be horribly tired tomorrow.
I'd left the dishes undone when I'd gone to bed the night before. They mocked me. Horrible, horrible dishes.
I had a long list of chores to do today.
I felt the weight of all the Christmas stuff I have to do bearing down upon me, as I huddled at the computer cruising Pinterest and reading up on paint colours and colour schemes. The morning completely gone.
It was too late to start the crock pot for the rib dinner I’d planned.
It was day three of three days off. The last thing, the very last thing I wanted to do was clean. But, I had to. The dust bunnies in my bedroom would probably attack me in my sleep this very night. The bathroom floor was disgusting. I'd cleaned yesterday and made note of all that had to be done. These were things that took top priority yesterday, but I'd run out of time to do them. I put an asterisk beside them on my cleaning checklist and soldiered on. The plan had always been to catch up today.
Today, I didn't like that plan.
So, I set the timer and played beat the clock. But first I made a list of those urgent chores. They seemed more doable, isolated and alone.
Vacuuming the living room? Five minutes.
Vacuuming the stairs? Ten minutes.
I walked into my room at 1:07 pm. I walked out at 2:25pm.
I stripped the bed and started washing the mattress pad. I picked up and put away. I vacuumed. Thoroughly. Pull out the bedside tables, pull out the the bed and vacuum all along the wall. Vaccum the things under the bed. That thoroughly.
I dusted. I cleaned the screen in our window. Put away two laundry baskets full of clothes and bedding. (Ten minutes) Even the summer shirts were put away (but not ironed.)
Two hours later, I was exhausted. But I'd broken the back of my inertia. Slowly, through the rest of the afternoon, I washed that mountain of dishes, more than once. I scrubbed the bathroom floor. (Even the nasty bits. By hand.) I cleaned out the microwave and watered the poor plants. I even hung the wreath on the door outside.
And tonight, after dinner, I had my husband help me flip the mattress over and wrestle the washed and shrunken mattress pad back onto it. Then, I made the bed.
I wanted more of a Christmas bed with grey and red and cream. This is more of a summer bed.
But, today, this is what we have.