Whenever I feel a little too stressed, I clean.
It’s my go-to move.
And, it always works…
Well. Maybe not always.
But if the world around me is tidy when the world inside of me is too messy to touch, I can at least breathe. So between cleaning and hiking (which is my other “go-to” self-therapy to help me cope with life on any given day), I’ve been a busy girl lately. There are some things going on in my life that I don’t feel right blogging about, but I will say these “things” are big…and very overwhelming at times if I let myself think about them too much.
Of all the escapes that a person can “use” to deal with stress and heartache, cleaning has always seemed to me like a pretty safe and constructive choice. It doesn’t really hurt anyone, and in fact, it can be quite beneficial to others in a way. But during this current “ditch of stress” I’m in life, my cleaning crutch hasn’t helped as much as usual, and in a way, it’s opened my eyes to some personal stuff I might need to consider with different eyes.
For starters, the other day, I was struggling more than usual with this issue in my life, and so I decided some laundry would help me feel like I was contributing in a positive way. So I gathered up a load, and I tossed a pair of Lou’s jeans into the mix. I checked the back pockets of Lou’s jeans for anything, but not the front. Long story short, when I pulled the load out of the dryer, the first thing that fell out of the pile into my laundry basket was Lou’s wallet…along with some confetti from a business card or two that didn’t survive the ordeal.
I was feeling pretty fragile inside at that moment, so I just sat on my bed with a pile of clean warm clothes all around me and tried to breathe in the healing scent of Tide Original. But it did no good. I felt oddly devastated by my error. (And, it reminded me of another stressful time where a load of laundry ruined Lou’s passport one day before he was leaving for a very important trip overseas…) I knew Lou was going to be upset with me about his wallet because he is the one carrying the lion’s share of stress in our lives these days, and so one little thing you can freak out over is sometimes the only thing you give yourself permission to use to blow off some of the pressure.
So all I could do was brace myself, and contritely apologize to Lou when the time came…
The other cleaning let down happened at the store. Aside from my deep devotion to Tide Original, there is this one other cleaning product that has, not only my stamp of approval but also, my complete trust. It’s a product called Clorox Ultimate Care. It’s this liquid bleach that has been refined somehow to make it safe to pour directly on your whites without eating a hole in the fabric, and it’s been one of the most versatile laundry products I’ve ever used. It cleans everything I need it to without the harshness of straight bleach, and goodness knows, if Lou wears a white shirt to a BB-Q, I know I better check my jug of Ultimate Care before I let him eat!!
The only problem with this product is that it is very difficult to find in stores, and because my shopping options are limited in Sonoma, I try to ration the jug I have whenever I’ve managed to find it when I’m shopping in a different city. But there is one store in Napa that has carried my magic cleaning fluid in the past, and so one day this week, when I was feeling especially wobbly, I drove over to Napa to try to buy a new jug of Ultimate Care.
When I arrived at the store that usually carries it, the shelves were packed with bleaches of every kind, but not one jug of my product was on the shelves. So I asked a helpful customer service rep. She looked it up on the store computer, and then promptly informed me that this store no longer stocks my product, but I could always order it online. I’m absolutely certain this young girl — who probably got her job at this store as her “summer vacation job” — must’ve thought I was insane as my chin started to wobble and my eyes got a little teary, and, the look of concern on her face was quite sweet!
So I quickly pivoted out of the moment, and said, “Oh my goodness…these allergies!”
I think she bought it…
But when I got back to my truck, I just felt so bummed that I had made the trip over to Napa and had nothing to show for it. There was even a tricky stain on something white that I had planned to attack with this product to give me a sense of purpose when I got home, but I was going to have to let it go. I just felt deflated and sad…and so in the privacy of my truck, I cried a little.
As I write this, I realize how silly my inner monolog about cleaning must seem, but my feelings are sincere and very real. This need I have to make things clean and “perfect” haunts me in more ways than I realize sometimes, and it’s only when I’m as low as I can get in my life that I can finally see things for what they really are. When I’m at my breaking point, I don’t know how to give up or surrender things, so I just reroute all of my energy into cleaning. And while I do find relief and some form of accomplishment in all of that effort, I’m still avoiding and stuffing…and deflecting.
Maybe I’m just more worn down than I used to be — particularly regarding this current life stress because it isn’t new to me at all… It’s just been a while since the pain was this acute. But breaking down over a cleaning product I couldn’t get my hands on did bring me to a new low. So as I’ve pondered and prayed my way through these emotions — instead of around them — I do feel as if I’m willing to release my stress differently than I ever have before.
It’s gotten to be a cliché that if I were a superhero, I’d be a Stain Fighter — I even have a blog about in The Imposition Tour collection. But the part that hits me today is not the “stain” but the “fighter” in that title. I think I consider fighting for things the only and best way to do life. I’ve spent seasons of my life digging deeper and finding the reserve to keep going and figuring out a way to beat the odds. And all of that has served me well at critical times in my life.
But just letting go?
Giving up?
Or, giving in?
I don’t think I know how to do that…
I do know I’ve gotten so much stronger in my faith, and when I pray on my hikes, I can feel myself learning to let go or at least loosening my grip for a minute or two. And I’ve surrendered more than I ever have in my life so far when I really sink down into my time with God, so I must be getting closer to a meaningful act of letting go. I know for certain God’s got me — I really do, because I have so much proof in my life! But when an old bedrock crack in my soul resurfaces (as it has very recently), filling up the crack with nothing but my faith seems to lack something for me. It just doesn’t seem like enough…
Last night, while I was tossing and turning in bed, I kept praying for something to come to me to help me understand how to orient myself to my feelings better this time around. And that’s when it came to me. The secret is forgiveness. Forgiving myself, forgiving others, and letting go — I mean really letting go — of the past narratives that have brought me to this place is how you do it. All of the history and memories are already logged, and they can’t be altered or touched, but they can be forgiven, blessed, and put to rest…
Right now, in the interest of full disclosure, there’s a load of laundry in the machine, swishing, and swoshing, and it smells so good to me. And the stain I had hoped to fight on that white garment with some Ultimate Care is currently sitting in a special concoction of Tide Original and some borax… But I kind of see that my past mistakes and unsorted feelings are a bit like a stain I’m seeking to undo or wash away so things can just get better. I’m hanging on to some technique or some “solution” that will remedy the ugliness of the past so no one — including me — can see it anymore.
But so far, I can’t find such a solution. Except for the fact that I have. It’s simple, and it’s free…and it’s always available if I’m willing to take some, give some, and believe in it.
