It’s 90 degrees outside, and I’m in the house on my hands and knees, scrubbing the ceiling, walls and baseboards in the bathroom, dripping with sweat, my hands raw from the tri-sodium phosphate cleaner I’m using, and I’m blissfully happy. How can this be?
I’ve heard it said that true happiness comes from accomplishing things that are challenging, even difficult, in contrast to having fun, which occurs when you are experiencing pleasant, transitory experiences.
I’m not a great housekeeper. Dirt and grime accumulate, I turn a blind eye, stay in denial about it, and/or struggle with that constant nagging feeling about those looming tasks. I guess this exercise was about facing the yukky chores, doing them instead of ignoring them, getting some satisfying work done, and having my place look much better. MY place, my home that I’ve worked at for the last ten years, by myself. My home for my son and me.
And then of course, there’s music playing. How does my iPod, on shuffle, always find the right songs to play? There’s 1000 favorite songs on an old iPod that I misplaced for a couple years, to get re-acquainted with; pleasant surprises keep happening, making me smile, or making my heart melt.
I feel inspired and satisfied and proud of my hard work and the joy I’ll get from having one more clean room.
The Art Part of my Heart 