Creepy Childhood Sublimal Messages
Last night, I was able to get some cleaning done. It actually went really easy because we got our fourth Chris Knight CD in the mail. So, of course, after waiting for months for the backordered CD, I wanted to hear it! (The CD is so popular the record label had to re-print it and we were the victims of a long wait for it.) It amazed me at how much picking up I was able to get done and what a dent I made in the house. Now, to pick up the living room and camping stuff.
We’ve talked a lot on the porch lately about cleaning, it getting out of hand, and being company ready. I guess I had that on my brain this morning.
All I really did last night was pick up after ourselves. This morning I could hear that voice in my head saying “There’s no reason it should be like this.” And, in many ways it seems there’s no reason I should let the house get like that. . . but it always seems to. I mean, so I’ve been laid out on the couch for nearly two weeks, what did I do to make a mess?
How hard is it to clean up after yourself really?
That’s when a light bulb went off. Perhaps I’m being too hard on myself. That question is the same question I was asked time and time again as a child. In my house, the house was to be clean- almost above all else. In fact, I think the main reason we were late every where (literally) we went was because mom was going around the house cleaning and picking up before we left.
Besides making me realize that I did not want to be late everywhere, I’m wondering if it set this high standard in my head. A standard that when I don’t meet it, I put myself down, I doubt myself, and I get angry at myself. It’s like this sublimal message that runs through my mind over and over and over only to knock myself down.
Now, my mom, either, was a stay-at-home mom or a part-time out of the home mom when I was growing up. It wasn’t until high school that she really worked full time outside of the home. Perhaps that standard came from her being able to spend more time at home- or more than likely, it was passed down from her mom. But, I know that as she worked more, her home didn’t stay as neat- and we got later and later to things as she tried to keep it picked up.
But, still I wonder, How hard is it to clean up after yourself really?
Am I being too kind to myself thinking that this is such a high standard? How long would it really to get in the habit of cleaning up after ourselves and cleaning our home on a more regular basis?
I wish I knew the answer. . . I wonder what others think.
Related posts:
- Childhood Favorites
- Going with the Creative Flow
- Sickly Companionship
- For Today
- It Wouldn’t Hurt Nothing