spring cleaning.

I drove to work last Tuesday morning in a fairly optimistic and lighthearted mood. I was not in a rush. I did not feel preoccupied. I felt…good, holding my big mug of coffee from a small bookstore in a small town in Ohio that I was able to visit for the first time in years this past Christmas. When I arrived, I grabbed my mug, shut the driver’s door, opened the door to the backseat where I keep my backpack, slung it on like I always do, closed the door, and watched my mug slide right out of my hand onto the concrete, where it shattered into 20-some pieces. I stood there in silence for a minute - a silence that admittedly possessed a few choice words whispered under my breath - and stared at the scene of the crime, trying to comprehend what had happened and whether it could still be fixed. (It could not.) There was no way that mug was going to be fixed. And now, my light grey sweatshirt was stained all over the front, my leggings were wet, and worst of all - I had no coffee.

All I could do - all I can still do now - is sigh a very deep sigh. Luckily, we have washing machines at work, so I wore my coat as a shirt while the stain was washed and dried away. I made a new cup of coffee out of some old Starbucks VIA Instant packs I found in the cupboard. I gathered up the pieces of the mug in a plastic bag, wondering if I might create some sort of odd art installation in the garden. Lemonade out of lemons, I suppose.

(it’s a start)

Because I’m me, I couldn’t not read into the situation:

For the last few weeks, life has been extra busy, culminating with a working weekend and a tiring time change from which it feels like I’m still recovering. But even though my mind is right and ready to get to what’s next, my body is apparently not. My body is actively telling me to loosen my grip and give it a rest. Skip the caffeine and just get some sleep! it might say, tsk-tsking in its ridiculously ornery way. (I never forget the Great Fall of 2023.)

As much as I love to proclaim the joys of slowing down, I’ll admit I tend to fall into the same old workhorse habits time and time again. Throughout these weeks, I’ve been ruminating over essay/newsletter ideas, wondering if I ought to focus on my novel instead, pondering if I want to write at all or just be a reader, if my time wouldn’t be better spent cleaning up the garden or organizing the coffee table or dusting all the forgotten corners of the house that the returning late winter sunlight reveals - and getting nothing accomplished in the process (aside from that which absolutely must be done).

Growing up, spring cleaning looked a lot like switching the flannel sheets out for regular, cleaning the toilets and dusting the shelves and moving the patio furniture back outside. It felt like fresh towels and cold dirt and freshly-cut flowers on the kitchen table. It was a renewal of sorts, but one that feels a little artificial to me now, which got me thinking: What is our exterior life if we continuously neglect the interior?

If I’m to claim, as I do to myself, that being content is what I strive for most, why do I keep myself from it? Why don’t I do what I say I want to do? Why do I fight so hard to remain unsatisfied? These are the questions that serve as the prelude to a coffee mug hitting the ground.

So in response, I’m working on succumbing to whatever feels most right in the moment - a walk, a snack, a journal entry - knowing that this is the sort of action that might finally get me closer to the point of saying, “You know what? Today was a good day,” and not beating myself up about what was left undone. There’s a lot I want to do, but I can only do so much - and that’s okay.

Tomorrow night marks the Spring Equinox, and I’ve been thinking it might be the best time to start setting some fresh intentions. I mean, who really feels inspired to start a new routine on January 1, when it’s cold and grey and wet outside? Three months of 2024 have come and nearly gone, and all I have to show for it is a cluttered mind and a broken coffee mug. But now, with the turning of the seasons, I look outside and see the greenest grass, hear the happiest birdsong, watch the weeds blooming and growing and stretching towards the blue sky, and I think, this is it. Forget the disappointing lure of a new year’s resolution - now is the time to decide what we’re going to do with all of the extra time that spring and summer grant us.

This weekend, I took time for myself. I went to a meditation class, I got a venti iced coffee, I ate out and drank out with friends, I bought some crystals, I went for a hike, I read in the sunshine, I listened to the new Kacey Musgraves album on repeat. I lived my life as I needed to, so that I can move into this week recharged and balanced. I don’t do this enough. Do you?

What will you make of these longer, brighter days, dear reader? Will you add more to-dos, more needs, more stressors? Or will you take the opportunity for rest and healing? Will you do it with the gentle grace that assures you’re not alone in your struggles? Will you loosen your grip before your body does it for you?

Lord knows I’ll be trying right alongside you.