Spring cleaning

There is something so incredibly satisfying about cleaning. And I don't mean the scrub the toilet and vacuum kind of cleaning. I mean the reorganization of books and pens and jewelry and even furniture and throwing out everything that isn't nailed down kind of cleaning. I usually associate it with spring, when you can throw open the windows and doors and let that wonderful freshness into your home. Today is about as winter in the Bay Area as you can get -- gray and cool and raining -- but that compulsion to do a little spring cleaning came over me this morning and I succumbed to its wonderful pressure. Wonderful because of the calmness and centeredness that comes over me when I get to soak up the results. It can be difficult to stop once I get rolling. I finish one thing and I see another and another and another that all need to be taken care of immediately too. I'm the kind of person that goes to bed when the sun goes down, but I've been known to stay up past midnight rearranging my bookshelves or cleaning out a closet.

This physical reorganization is about so much more than just making my home feel that much homier, a good enough reason in itself. It's about the way that it opens me up to do internal reorganization as well, setting the example outside so that my insides know what to do. If I've been banging my head up against a wall trying to work something through, a little spring cleaning is the magic ingredient to make everything fall into place. I'm not saying that I had any great epiphanies this morning -- insight is not a requirement for this process -- but I can tell from the shift in how I am resonating with my surroundings that it is working. There are still a few hours of daylight left -- is there anything else I can tackle today?