A Pivot, A Broadening, to Include Home Cleaning

Care of the details, of working with and removing unnecessary accumulation

So my friend was selling his house in Connecticut, and I am a weird person who loves to clean, and I love to help people pack up and move and sort and organize. I also enjoy being a source of motivation, to clean *just one more* closet out when we think we’re done for the day, to get up and start on something (an open invitation for the other to join), all while recognizing there’s a dynamic work/rest balance vital to success. Success in this case is not go-go-go.

There’s so much included in moving – it’s emotional, there are so many old things to go through, decisions to make. Sometimes decisions are about how to pack something best or where to pack it, but sometimes they’re about letting something go. Sometimes “motivating” someone is about giving them the little nudge they need to pause in the packing and really be in their emotions, to experience the grief welling within, to experience it for the sake of experiencing it, likely allowing it to release and make space for what’s next. Many people are uncomfortable with cleaning, sorting, making decisions, packing, and grieving.

I have some capacity at being *with* emotional experiences, at offering a genuine smile of care through a difficult time, at offering a smile of understanding that speaks louder than words for an indescribable experience. Words capture – an experience, an essence, an idea – and grief cannot be captured.

And so I effectively invited myself to do those things for this friend of mine, any or all, depending on what was needed in a moment. I arrived on a Wednesday afternoon, an early flight plus layover from West Coast to East Coast, and we slid right into work. We did some arranging, light cleaning, getting it show-ready for photos, not show-ready for human eyes yet. We worked on that into the evening, got up early the next morning, continued to work on that. The photographer arrived pretty early and made quick work of it, leaving most of the day for elbow grease and decisions.

Thursday and Friday we cleaned all day, knowing we weren’t going to have the weekend, having committed to a BBQ with his family about an hour away, where his folks live. We didn't really get much done that weekend, but Sunday it was listed as a Coming Soon, and Monday we were back at it.

pro tip: clean with scents and textures you enjoy. no flocked gloves were harmed in the making of this photo ;P

And by early in the week there were a couple of appointments lined up for Saturday, even though it didn’t officially go on the market until Sunday (with an Open House planned for that day). So we hustled. He had loads to attend to as the house owner, so I dove in where I could make an impact. Deep cleaning. My eyes notice grime, build-up, residue. What arises in me when I spot grease, hand stains, spill-spots and such isn’t judgment; there are so many reasons why things aren’t kept to a white-glove standard of clean: it’s time consuming and not really practical; sterile isn’t necessarily “healthy”; not everyone notices; it doesn’t bother people (including me!); it’s not that noticeable; they’re in hard-to-reach places; people don’t know *how* to clean, or how best to clean, and so much more. What is perceived to be “clean” is such a subjective experience. There’s no one-size-fits-all approach or result.

I’m actually not dirt, grime, or build-up averse, even though my eyes spot it. While judgment doesn’t arise, care does. An urge to care wells within me, and sometimes it results in cleaning, and sometimes I just sit with it and let it be there or drift off. It doesn’t bother me at all, this urge. Sometimes there’s a flavor of wanting to clean for the person (they’re a close friend, they’re elderly, they have mobility issues…), sometimes it’s wanting to care for a space. There are different kinds of caring. Lack of cleaning doesn’t mean neglect or lack of care.

But I so enjoy caring for a space by removing muck. I don’t really have an eye for arrangement, although my body relaxes when I am in a well-arranged space. Same for color and art/decorating, it’s not my strong point. And while I don’t enjoy all color and art, I can enjoy spending time with people in their space, in the decor that makes them happy. And it’s the same with so-called cleanliness.

I actually don’t love the word or implication of the word “clean” – there’s an included implication of “dirty” and that’s not really how I think about things. What does feel right for me is caring for a space by removing build-up, and it’s kind of how I approach coaching, as well. I try to spot where there’s stuckness, and what’s in the way. Some kind of blockage or obstacle, perceived or real, and working through that with care and diligence – and maybe a little metaphorical elbow grease.

We knew the house needed to be ready for human eyes by Saturday, possibly earlier. Appointments continued to be booked, we’d have to be away from the house for most of each day of the weekend. So I suggested to him we visit his folks, crash their birthday/anniversary plans (celebrate with them) and have easy access to lounging and bathrooms (always a challenge when trying to stay away from home!) and he agreed. So we did that.

We emptied closets and set it up in a way that would allow people to really imagine themselves living there. His sister gave him some excellent advice: it was no longer his home. It was a house he was stewarding until the next people made it their home. We took stuff to the dump, we organized, we cared for old, loved, heavy things too brittle to transport to a new location.

We left Friday, basically cleaning the floor on our way out of the house, right up to the front door, and it was beautiful and gleaming – walls, banisters, stairs, baseboards, cabinets, drawers... And I felt such a feeling of success and joy and meaning and, I don't know, a deep love of the Good, True, and Beautiful. He had put so much heart and attention into the space, he’d made it beautiful, put so much of himself into this home. And like I said, I actually don't mind grime, I don't mind dirt. And, understandably, there was a fair amount of accumulation in this enormous, five bedroom, three bathroom home.

It felt like such a meaningful contribution to be able to clean his house in a way that allowed it to speak for itself in its beauty, in its loveliness, in its homeliness, so that the building itself, the walls, the flooring types, the trim and wall colors, the care and attention of everything that he had put into it, that *that's* what could shine. That's what could sing to somebody who might want to live there and make it their home. And so I just felt *good* about it. He made it beautiful; all I did was remove the accumulation of evidence of living there that might draw the eye away from that beauty. And we left for the weekend.

Saturday, he heard there were couple of offers, and one came in Sunday. Long story shorter, the first couple of cash offers fell through (apparently that’s a current trend), but the third offer seemed solid. Monday morning he set up getting a storage unit by his folks’ house, we took a load to it, and he accepted the offer at a time that felt right. We drove back to the house that evening, and the next morning continued with the packing up necessary to vacate a house, making posts for Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace. These are not details everyone loves, and I can’t say I do, but I do love supporting people in what they don’t like to do but need to do.

And while I was there, I got to remember how good all this felt – to clean a house, to care for people and spaces in the details, to move my body (not so much sitting in front of the computer, although I do have plenty of meaningful work there!), and do stuff I do well. And since then, I’ve had some insights and realizations – it’s not just “cleaning.” It feels more like relating. It's relating with a home (or space) in a caring way. I use the word home here intentionally.

I've always said home is where my heart is, and I carry my heart with me everywhere I go. So in a way I'm home everywhere I go. I haven't had much actual experience of home in a place in my life. But in a way, I am home everywhere I go. So I’ve been thinking about relationship to place and housecleaning and cleaning and home-cleaning. I’ve been thinking about place/environment, but also about the body as home, the mind as home, the heart as home, the spirit as home. How do we relate to each of those as ‘home’? How do we care for those homes in the details? How are we “cleaning” (I need a better word here – how are we decluttering, creating space, working with and removing unnecessary accumulation) our homes?

It’s probably not obvious why this post is titled “pivot” — more on that in future posts.