Another routine day, when I did some webdesign-job in my budding company (at home), then rested and meditated (sort of) and then prepped for some teaching in webdesign at a local evening school.
I’m off to the latter gig – through February snows and public transportation semi-chaos – in a few hours.
Before I rested for the noon, because I felt so damn jittery for some reason, I looked around. In the two-roomer. Didn’t appreciate it that much:
Dirt on the floor and shelves …
And mess-piles …
These are mostly due to our moving stuff around but still … we never seem to get to the bottom no matter how much we throw out.
I can barely keep up with shopping and cooking most of the time while Char is till working full-time (with her day job and with her pregnancy which makes her tired the rest of the time).
So: Shopping, cooking, a bit of cleaning and then looking for more work myself – steady work, gigs for my company, freelance work …
… Whatever can bring me to a position where I can earn at least 4K a month, which is what I need to keep up servicing the debt and credit card payments, food, transports, my share of the rest in our household.
I have this defect, I suppose, that makes me yearn for order – for clean floors and walls and shelves, and there never seems to be time enough. Even in our little home.
And baby Jay will be here in less than 3 months, so … forget about order.
I have much – much – to be grateful for. But the continuing spiral of spend time for work/seeking work vs. less time on order – that irks me.
What an odd problem, or what?
I suppose in time, at least for the cleaning part, I can earn enough to hire someone to do it. But so far that is not realistic.
Well, now that I’m writing about it that particular defect seems to evaporate from my mind, like it is already healed. Or was never even there.
I suspect, even though it is a real bother, that when I’m stressed with other things, this yearning for order gets blown out of proportion.
Similarly, the irritation that it seems to be a never-ending project, even if on the surface it should be so simple.
I mean who the hell can’t keep their homes nice, or just a bit nice? Esp. if it’s less than 60 square meters.
If that’s the limit of my current capacity to get things done then I’ve got a long way to go as regards building a company or saving the world, huh?
Or maybe I should just accept that if you are a father or an entrepreneur or whatever position of More Importance, then you have no time for being the perfect house wife, too.
Or maybe it’s not that black and white, and I’m just putting this problem in a place where it doesn’t belong. I’m mocking myself without cause.
I mean, it’s all on a scale, as usual – isn’t it?
I want a bit more order and cleanliness. But I feel I have to devote my time to something else (which I’m also not very good at yet) – like earning money, or trying to. And soon: assisting in raising my son.
And. That’s. It.
Nothing particularly earth-shattering about that dilemma, nor any reason to mock myself for feeling irritated about it. Nor any reason for blowing it out of proportion.
It. Just. Is.
And now that I can accept that without making a drama about it, one way or another,
I feel more at peace with it. Less annoyed.
More like: “Okay, fine, I know this is something I’d like to change and eventually I will, but I still have some way to go.”
That way is: Earning money enough to hire a house keeper (after I clean out the last trash of our own).
So once again the key is acceptance of a situation, while you acknowledge you want to change it. And then work to make that change. Within and without.
That means peace inside first and then fuck the mess outside.
The beauty is that you can start creating order from both ends of the spectrum, and then peace, but recognize that peace inside is the goal.
So if creating order on the outside doesn’t work to that end, something is wrong. Stop.
And start again with the inside, with the feelings. With changing those.
Like when I lay down on my bed and tried to just relax instead of stressing about dust on shelves, always falling. And other silliness.
Start inside with making peace when that’s the best, most direct route to peace – inside.
I guess that’s what I did today, in my own halting way.