Clean Up

I have watched a lot of television over the past year, but just one scene has left an indelible impression. It was from the last season of Mad Men, a show set in the early 1960’s which features most of its male and female characters in the very traditional roles of breadwinners and housewives, respectively.

The background to this memorable scene is that the lead character’s wife, Betty, is sinking into depression after discovering her husband’s infidelity and then throwing him out of the house. But in this scene, she isn’t crying or raging, she isn’t hiding in a darkened bedroom or eating ice cream on the couch. She isn’t ripping up family photos or burning her husband’s things. She’s simply laying contact paper in her kitchen drawers.

It was such a different way to depict a woman trying to cope with the emotional turmoil of a life turned upside down, yet to me it still conveyed the severity of her pain, perhaps even more so than a traditional angry or sad reaction. Her stoic appearance as she tried to create order where there was really only chaos portrayed not a lack of emotion, but rather a silent outpouring of it. And I could relate.
When I feel like my life is getting out of control, I clean. If I am frustrated with my family, overwhelmed by schedules, or anxious about choices, I distract myself with soiled counters and unswept floors. The cleaning motions provide a physical outlet for my emotions while the mindlessness of the tasks allow my thoughts to wander or simply disappear for a while.

I openly admit to being a control freak (maybe some of you can relate). As such, one of the hardest things about having children has been giving up some amount of control to a little person who may not maintain my high standards. I went into parenthood thinking my guidance would be a welcomed force in the household and that nobody would even consider questioning my practicality and inarguable common sense, but it hasn’t exactly worked out that way. I’m learning to let go of the battles that really don’t matter so that I can be heard when they do, but it still requires a mighty biting of the tongue now and again (and again and again). And so I retreat to the kitchen where at least the dishes will go where I tell them.

Emptying the sink of dirty dishes, the garbage cans of pungent trash, and tables of long-accumulated clutter provides a temporary illusion of calm despite how I may be feeling on the inside (although sometimes my disgruntled attitude while doing the cleaning may delay the calming effect).

When I am facing major “to dos” or decisions beyond the everyday, my anxiety is further increased by disorganization, so that is when you’ll find me rearranging cabinets, streamlining files, or finally inserting last year’s photos into albums. During one particularly difficult time, I even did a massive overhaul of the basement. Fueled by hard rock on my iPod and a very heavy heart, I found the super strength to move the heaviest of boxes, old furniture, and construction debris on my own all in the name of order (though I regretted that the next day when my old achy body returned).

Of course, cleaning is a great way to procrastinate as well, one that provides an illusion of accomplishment. I’m not saying that the accomplishment is false, just that it can be misdirected. I clean when I need to clean, but also when I should be making that phone call, resolving that conflict, or taking that next step.

Unfortunately, the cleaning solution is also a short-lived one. The restoration of order lasts for but a moment, as day-to-day messes accumulate in endless cycles (empty dishwasher-fill dishwasher-empty dishwasher), and new messes arise without warning.

Nor is it ever truly possible to establish order in the long-term as we, our children, and our family continually change, and the family dynamics shift. Each year brings different needs, different decisions, and different anxieties, and it’s not always easy to anticipate the challenges that we or our children will face as we grow – together and apart.

But a clean counter is always a clean counter, and sometimes that is what I need to get me through.