Saturday. Going back to my memories of childhood. Saturday was always a day to clean. I wasn’t the biggest fan of it. Even though there were 5 people in our home, it was always taking way too long. There was an endless ‘to do’ list. When one chore was done, another was lurking right around the corner.
It’s hard to deny that the idea of cleaning was pointless to me at that time. Just a complete waste of time. Nature and the world outside was always calling me louder than the iron or the vacuum cleaner. ‘My thing’ was ironing. Five people. Piles and piles and piles of nicely smelling, freshly clean clothes. All in line to be hung or folded, freshly ironed in the wardrobes.
Every Saturday. Years of my life. Wasted.
All in the name of ironed clothes, clean floors, dusted shelves, a tidy bedroom, vacuumed carpets.
I guess we carry a lot inside us from our childhood. I carry with me those days and instead of frustration I transformed a ‘waste of time’ into something I love. That waste of time from my childhood became a meditative mood later on. I guess that;s not such a bad replacement 😉
I am grateful for the time I waste this Saturday. Although I wish I had that approach when I was a kid it would have been more fun!
/my Beloved just commented that, I would have been a really strange kid to love ironing for 5 people every Saturday. I guess then, I was OK/