Last week the living room went from garish yellow to cappuccino. I like.
Today The Maids came. My sister bought me a gift certificate almost a year ago and I never used it ’til now. And only now because they called and said it would expire soon. And I knew I’d catch hell if I let that happen. And I didn’t want to seem ungrateful, because I’m not.
You see….I dream of having a cleaning service. I wish for it all the time. But there is always a reason not to. Money. That’s the big one of course. I never could justify it.
But wait, there’s more.
Today when The Maids arrived, I cringed at their big yellow car with its big advertisement parked in my driveway.
The neighbors will think I’m too lazy to clean my own house.
The neighbors will think we’re loaded.
The neighbors will judge me, I mean, I’m not even employed outside the home.
The neighbors will think, the neighbors will think, the neighbors will think.
Ludacris, I know, but there it was.
A team of four piled into the house and immediately set to work. One in the bathroom. One in the kitchen. One upstairs, one downstairs. They were hell on wheels. Two hours, four people scrubbing my house spic and span.
The maids are probably disgusted with my house.
The maids have probably never seen so much dust on a ceiling fan.
The maids probably resent having to scrub someone else’s toilets and floors.
I hid in our bedroom with the kids and the dogs, frantically e-mailing HT and my friend Betsy for pep talks. They delivered. ((LOVE)).
Yesterday, I spent a considerable amount of time, removing clutter from dresser tops, the dining room table, etc., boxing it up and putting it in the basement or my office so The Maids even could clean.
How am I constantly de-cluttering and still always finding more stuff piling up? Actually I recently figured out using the term “de-cluttering” is part of it. The energy behind the word is “anti.” I need a new word. I am not de-cluttering, I’m creating space. I’m organizing. I’m beautifying.
Anyway…this whole experience of having The Maids here was very eye opening. Very ridiculously stressful. Very shining a light on unhealed aspects of myself and saying, “Yoo-hoo? You ready to deal with this? Is now a good time?”
Before answering the question, I ran to the kitchen cabinet and ate four cookies. I knew I was emotionally eating. I knew. But you know what? It’s okay. I’ve done a lot worse than four cookies, and there was awareness, even as I dunked those babies in my coffee.
This isn’t about the neighbors. This isn’t about the maids. This isn’t even about money.
The issue is worthiness. It always is.
Who am I to have a good life?
Who am I to have help?
Who am I to ask for and/or receive support?
Who do I think I am?
Sitting here in my nice clean house, I am thankful.
One more layer peeled off.
Thankful to have this experience.
Thankful to have the luxury, the time and space to think about my response to these questions.