Sweeping

When we first moved to Ojai, sweeping felt like an utter nuisance. The whole run of concrete we consider our "porch" faces south-southwest, so it's ablaze with sun after mid-morning until the sunset. There always seems to be dirt, leaves, and debris scattered all over it. The wind runs from a breeze to a torrent, depending, and added to that and the tree cover, our neighbor's patio runs parallel above, so whatever they've got going on up there eventually comes down to us.

At first, it was frustrating - another chunk of space to straighten and clean, another spot to be messed up by forces out of my control (inside, it's toddler and dog, outside it's nature). In my new stay-at-home-mom role, it became a reflection of how I felt I was doing, another thing I was using to measure my abilities and worth without the demands of a boss and projects. Instead of hitting annual work goals, I was making up a story that my husband was judging the worthiness of my days by how cleanliness of the house and the porch.

Eventually, I came to see that I was judging myself. Not just about the cleanliness of our home, but about what the hell I was doing with my life.

Daily, I grappled with my own definition of success. Apparently I had many, many assumptions about what being a stay-at-home parent would look like, and more so feel like, and I didn't feel like anything good was coming from it for me. Yes, my daughter was home and not in daycare and yes, I didn't have to work full-time and parent anymore, but I was in completely new territory, and totally lost.

Over the course of the school year I participated in Mara Glatzel's Tend program and in a private coaching conversation, she encouraged me to redefine my own definition of success, to connect to myself and what I needed/wanted, to move towards activities that lit me up. At first, this felt impossible. I wasn't even sure I understood what she meant, but I thought about it a bit, and figured maybe it would be helpful to take "success" off the table completely.

I started filling my stay-at-home parenting days with meandering walks outside, breakfast at home, and painting. I added a stop at a cafe for tea before grocery shopping. I gave up trying to go to any organized activities for kids. Mara assured me that by valuing my needs and wants, I was teaching my daughter to follow her own curiosity and to value her own needs, wants and interests.

And then one morning I found myself sweeping the porch, no premeditation about it. A and I both wanted to be outside, and there was a buzzing in my body to move. Broom in hand, I started. The ssshhhtttpp sound of the brush on the concrete energized me. Dirt moved into small piles. Then I was carrying patio chairs and plants to clean beneath them, banging out the welcome mats, and dusting cobwebs off the corners of the building.

I hit a total flow state, focused and satisfying. A played around my working, even grabbing her own broom to sweep next to me. Within an hour or so, the whole porch had the feel of a room that'd just been aired out, windows open, furniture dusted.

H and I talk about "pride of ownership" often. The idea that we take good care of our things and living space. That we appreciate when things feel "tended to". Even though we're in boarding school housing now, that value hasn't changed. It feels really good to tidy up and put into order our outside spaces.

More so, something about being outdoors, taking care of plants and sweeping away the seasonal debris satisfies my need for order, beauty, and attention to my life. It gives me an appreciation for the space my family and I are inhabiting. And it moves whatever energy may be stuck in my body, so that I can be present and grounded in how I'm really feeling, and what else I want to do with my days.