An Ode to the Act of Cleaning and...

I have decided that there is a part of me that is very much like my grandmother, but not at all like my mother: I am a neat-freak.

I don't feel like everything needs to be perfect or I'll go crazy, but I'm not one of those people that can peacefully sit in a room, particularly my own, unless it's organized and clean. Well, I guess you can be a clean person without having to be organized, but lately, I find myself thinking about the next kind of organizing bin/container I want to buy, it's somewhat odd. I have a bin for my craft materials, one for my vintage purses, one for my journals, one for my meds/vitamins, and the list goes on...I used to just be what most would consider neat, but then, after I moved out of my dorm, I wanted to be more than clean; I wanted to be able to find what I wanted, when I wanted it (without having to waste half the day away looking for it). One of my aunt's is also this way. I'm sure she would even have a labeled container for her porcelain figurine dust if she could, at least I think so. But I eventually realized that I admire that organized quality in her, she even keeps a copy of all her family's medical records in binders that she's made for each and every one of them.

I'm sure I'm not like most 20 something year olds because of my somewhat strange desire to keep things clean and organized, but I've decided that, generally, it makes life a lot easier. It's amazing how much time I save now that I know where to find what, and I honestly feel that my mind is able to function better in a clean room.

You know, I think there is one thing about my mother regarding this issue that I did inherit. Although she's not known for being neat or even on-time, she's always been one to judge a restaurant based on the cleanliness of its restroom. It seems a little silly, but I also feel that if the bathroom is clean enough, then maybe they take the time to clean their dishes properly, too? I guess it's a mystery I'll never be able to solve.

Another thing my grandma does that I've recently started doing is waking up early. I actually used to be a "morning person" when I was in high school, mostly because I had to be. When I got to college, though (well, at least after my freshman year, when I realized it's not a good idea to have an 8 o'clock class when going to bed before 2 AM the night before) I slept in, sometimes until 2 PM. After graduating this December, though, I've tried waking up around 9 AM, and even though it's really tough to do if I don't go to sleep early enough, It really feels nice when I actually do it. This morning I got up at 7:45, but that's because I need to start waking up early for work.

I've noticed that I'm definitely one of those people that loves the morning, though. I think it's because I love getting to see the sun, and there's always a sense of peace that comes with a sunrise. Everything is new, and I'm usually feeling well-rested. When I first wake up, the mystery of what the day could hold is what makes me want to jump out of bed. The first few seconds before my feet hit the carpeted floor are those in which I am probably the most observant and awake. Also, everything is quieter than usual, and that silence brings a stillness that is the morning's own.

I really don't know if being a morning person and a neat-freak go hand-in-hand. I guess for me they do because I usually feel like cleaning when I'm the most alert, and that's usually around dawn. I might have also formed a positive association with cleaning at a young age, and I even think the reason why I feel like cleaning, particularly in the morning, has something to do with experiences I had when I was a kid. Every Saturday morning I'd spend with my grandma, the first thing she'd do after breakfast is clean. We never set foot out of the house until every room smelled like some sort of cleaner, maybe Clorox or Windex. And since I followed her around like a little duck, naturally I'd pick up a scrubber or paper towel and put them to use. I didn't mind at all, either, I loved spending time with her in any way I could because she was and still is like a mother to me.

My grandmother taught me a lot more than how to clean; she was actually more interested in the purity of her heart than the cleanliness of her house. Always going to church every Sunday come rain or shine was the norm for her, but she wanted to make sure she was respectful to God even when she wasn't in his house. One way she did that was by always serving others without complaint, especially her children and grandchildren. So it now goes for me that I appreciate a clean room, but there are other things that are a lot more meaningful to me, like the spiritual and emotional state of a human being. There is always something about my character that I need to polish when I reflect on the kind of person I am, because I know I will never be spotless. But, as I mentioned earlier, in those few hours after sunrise, I feel almost as if the slate has been wiped clean, and I can start over, even if there's a mess I have to clean-up, literally and figuratively. I am just thankful that I had someone in my life to show me what's important. Even though she is states away from where I live, there is a part of me that always feels connected to my grandma when I'm doing something like vacuuming the floor, or just trying to be a better person than I was the day before.