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I am not a great housekeeper. I'm just not. Even at the best of times, when I'm not a grad student or a single mom who's working or whatever... it's just not me. It's stressful. I don't like doing it (mentally channeling Aladdin there for a sec...). Of course, housekeeping is one of those things that doesn't really care whether you like doing it or not. It still has to be done (for varying values of "done"). I have some things I can do pretty well, and then I have some things that I can't keep up with at all (like clutter). I try, but I'm overwhelmed before I start and then I spend four hours on three square feet and I'm spent. I cannot clean a house in a day. My attention span just fails. I'm lucky if I can complete a large-ish job in one sitting... and usually I can't, I'll stop and start two or three times over. Such is life.
I have learned some things about housekeeping over the years, though. First, moving cross-country lots and living in a teensy place in Seattle taught me to de-clutter. You can only have as many things as you have space for, and not even all of your space, because then you can't get to the things for the clutter. This is a difficult concept, but it's a good one.
Second, everything has to have a home. If it doesn't have a home, make one for it. If you can't or don't want to make one for it, then you probably need to set it free into the world to find a home for itself. If something doesn't have a place in your house, it will float around like the plastic island made of trash off in the Atlantic and never settle, always being in the way. This is not a perfect rule, mind you... there is always some flotsam and jetsam in the best of worlds, especially with kids in the house, but it's a good basic idea.
Thirdly, the "broken windows" theory applies to housecleaning. Now, most notably, it's actually a criminological theory that says that if you fix things in buildings and neighborhoods as they break (broken windows, graffitti, broken lights, etc.) that crime will go down. Crime is not my issue. We inhabit our spaces, though, and inhabiting our spaces actively keeps our brains and emotional states feeling cared for, is inviting to friends and relations, and keeps out intruders who look for dirt and neglect as easy pickings (as they are all over the natural world -- if the cobwebs have built up, there's no traffic, and that means it's available for rent for the winter, right?).
Inhabiting our spaces actively means caring for them -- keeping them clean and lit and maintained. There is a problem, though, in that there are three levels of "clean:" clutter, grime, and maintenance. Clutter is what makes your house messy. It's in the way, it's all over stuff, it's accumulating in heaps and drifts. This, btw, is the level I suck at most. Grime is a more subtle issue -- it stains things and makes them dingy. It seems kind of like the thing you can most easily ignore, but it's the one that'll make you sick fastest. Maintenance is a whole other category, in which there are repairs and mowing and painting and fixes for things that break. Maintenance almost always costs money. I know very little about this level, having only now for the first time lived somewhere that it isn't covered by rent and therefore someone else's problem. I know it exists, though, and I'm learning about it. Oh, you crazy house ownership sort of thing, you.
My theory is that grime and maintenance are the aspects covered by the "broken windows" theory, aka the tipping point. If your house is broken, you fix it. If you can't fix it, you suck it up until you can or you learn how to fix it yourself. That kind of sums it up. Grime, though... grime is relatively cheap to fix. If windows are filthy, if things are covered in layers of dirt... no matter how much clutter you put away, it's still a dirty house, still neglected. On the other hand, if the grime is cleaned up, then clutter can be forgiven if it gets away from you. A house can be clean and cluttered, but not so much the other way around. I am, therefore, trying to put this into action. Once a day, I'm cleaning something I don't think has been cleaned in a while. I'm not trying to clean everything at once... I can't, I'll keel over and I don't have the time or the bandwidth. I can do it in bits, though, and in doing so, I feel we will eventually reach a tipping point, wherein even if things are cluttered, they still feel clean. Wish me luck, friends.
I have learned some things about housekeeping over the years, though. First, moving cross-country lots and living in a teensy place in Seattle taught me to de-clutter. You can only have as many things as you have space for, and not even all of your space, because then you can't get to the things for the clutter. This is a difficult concept, but it's a good one.
Second, everything has to have a home. If it doesn't have a home, make one for it. If you can't or don't want to make one for it, then you probably need to set it free into the world to find a home for itself. If something doesn't have a place in your house, it will float around like the plastic island made of trash off in the Atlantic and never settle, always being in the way. This is not a perfect rule, mind you... there is always some flotsam and jetsam in the best of worlds, especially with kids in the house, but it's a good basic idea.
Thirdly, the "broken windows" theory applies to housecleaning. Now, most notably, it's actually a criminological theory that says that if you fix things in buildings and neighborhoods as they break (broken windows, graffitti, broken lights, etc.) that crime will go down. Crime is not my issue. We inhabit our spaces, though, and inhabiting our spaces actively keeps our brains and emotional states feeling cared for, is inviting to friends and relations, and keeps out intruders who look for dirt and neglect as easy pickings (as they are all over the natural world -- if the cobwebs have built up, there's no traffic, and that means it's available for rent for the winter, right?).
Inhabiting our spaces actively means caring for them -- keeping them clean and lit and maintained. There is a problem, though, in that there are three levels of "clean:" clutter, grime, and maintenance. Clutter is what makes your house messy. It's in the way, it's all over stuff, it's accumulating in heaps and drifts. This, btw, is the level I suck at most. Grime is a more subtle issue -- it stains things and makes them dingy. It seems kind of like the thing you can most easily ignore, but it's the one that'll make you sick fastest. Maintenance is a whole other category, in which there are repairs and mowing and painting and fixes for things that break. Maintenance almost always costs money. I know very little about this level, having only now for the first time lived somewhere that it isn't covered by rent and therefore someone else's problem. I know it exists, though, and I'm learning about it. Oh, you crazy house ownership sort of thing, you.
My theory is that grime and maintenance are the aspects covered by the "broken windows" theory, aka the tipping point. If your house is broken, you fix it. If you can't fix it, you suck it up until you can or you learn how to fix it yourself. That kind of sums it up. Grime, though... grime is relatively cheap to fix. If windows are filthy, if things are covered in layers of dirt... no matter how much clutter you put away, it's still a dirty house, still neglected. On the other hand, if the grime is cleaned up, then clutter can be forgiven if it gets away from you. A house can be clean and cluttered, but not so much the other way around. I am, therefore, trying to put this into action. Once a day, I'm cleaning something I don't think has been cleaned in a while. I'm not trying to clean everything at once... I can't, I'll keel over and I don't have the time or the bandwidth. I can do it in bits, though, and in doing so, I feel we will eventually reach a tipping point, wherein even if things are cluttered, they still feel clean. Wish me luck, friends.
