I kind of hate being the way I am.
Well. I take that back. Who am I kidding? I love being clean and tidy!
To me, it’s one of the greatest joys in life to have fresh smelling clothes and towels in my world! I’ve always been this way. And until I became a full-time imposer, I never gave much thought about anyone else’s cleaning standards, albeit, I’ve always recommended a good cleaning product — like Tide Original, or Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Day products, for example. (At the moment, I’m quite fond of the Red Radish scent from Mrs. Meyer’s. It can make the worst day smell so good!)
But it’s not like I’ve ever walked around with a white glove in my pocket, judging everyone for how well they maintained their own homes. My cleaning standards were always about my home. Period. But this sudden experience of being homeless made me desperate to find things that could make me feel safe and cozy.
And… I really craved a clean and tidy place so I could just breathe.
During the first week of The Imposition Tour, I remember taking a moment to have a big cry in the shower at another friend’s home. I was feeling horrible because the MLM products still hadn’t arrived, and I was growing so impatient. That day, my fears were at an all-time high. I felt like we were never going to start this stupid journey! So it felt good to cry it all out in the privacy of the shower. The warm water seemed to rinse some of the anxiety down the drain, and I felt like maybe I could rally my spirits for another day of waiting.
But when I pressed my face into the towel my gracious host provided, the overpowering smell of mildew filled my nostrils, and I felt my body tighten in a fear-laced spasm.
A new wash of tears poured out of me as I realized that my fresh smelling towels were neatly folded in a box that was haphazardly shoved into a storage unit that was located a few miles away. Things couldn’t be “my way” anymore. This was my new life:
- Ambushing friends with our need for a place to stay…
- Varying degrees of domestic tidiness…
- Guest towels that may or may not have been recently laundered…
I feel so ashamed of myself now when I think about that first week. I was grasping for things to comfort me that were tangible when all of the most tangible things in my life were no longer available to me. I could only pack what would fit inside of one suitcase and a couple of overflow bags, and so towels and my normal creature comforts didn’t make the cut. As ridiculous as that may sound, facing this reality while standing in the shower with a smelly towel in my hand hit me hard.
And, I guess it was in that moment that I discovered a whole new well of sadness that needed to be washed down the drain.
Soon after that self-indulgent pity party, I realized that if I was going to survive all of this, I was going to have to lower my expectations and find a better sense of home. I needed a new way to define comfort and safety in my life. And, I was going to have to become someone different. Someone who was more tolerant of the way other people did things. Even though I was always striving for perfection, I needed to recognize that my way of doing things wasn’t perfect.
I had to change.
Looking back on those first few days, I know how blessed Lou and I were to have friends who gladly gave us shelter and so much love. It’s generous to share your home with someone in need, and things like smelly towels and awkward explanations aside, Lou and I were beautifully held together by our friends during a time when I was sure I was about to fall apart. That week of my life was the beginning of a very long journey that was preceded by the loss of a great many things…