Fits and Spurts

I try to be consistent. I really do. But, I have also started embracing the me that is sporadic. Maybe not-cleaning-up-as-you-go can be a positive attribute. Growing up, we would clean our bedrooms on Saturdays. During the week, though, it all went to pot. Clothes, dirty dishes, homework, crafts, blankets from our forts and more would end up littering our bedrooms, and we were content to live in the squaller. Saturday morning though, after our routine cartoon watching, we'd head to our rooms and Mom would call us more than once  to use our elbow grease.

There is nothing wrong with that system. Am I right? If you aren't  in the mood to clean up after yourself day-in, day-out, it's fine, as long as, at some point, the elbow is greased and  life is put back in order, cobwebs removed and mold is kept at bay. It's all a facade anyhow. The illusion that we are in control of something. We aren't really.  Cleaning is for those who need that fantasy of control. The real risk-takers are those who cast off discipline and perseverance for the less neurotic form of living, mop-free.

Did you see those babies in the documentary aptly entitled Babies?  You had your clean and safe North American and Asian babies with their FDA and APA-approved car seats and organic, toxin free baby wipes. Then you had your rolling in the red dirt and sleeping with the rooster babies from Mongolia and Africa. And that baby from Mongolia just made me feel like butter. What a happy child. Even when his brother whacked him behind his mother's back. Even when he almost put himself through an involuntary brist climbing off a rusty barrell, in the middle of a cow pasture. That mama was not worried about keeping her yurt germ free. But, I digress.

My point is, I am not consistent. With anything. Cleaning, writing, you name it. But that doesn't necessarily have to be a character flaw. It can be a conduit of inspiration. Like, right now, for example. Instead of cleaning up to cook dinner, I'm snatching this precious 25 minutes alone to write on my blog. Even if I tried to be consistent, which I have, I'd fail. So, I will embrace the spurts and the sputters and the fails. I will name it something positive, have it branded and start raising funds to support a non-profit that promotes healthy living through waiting for the mood to strike. You watch. It'll be a national trend soon. And I'll be giving advice on how not to do the dishes.