Where Did the Neat Freak Go?

So I got a few things done this weekend. And I actually feel a sense of accomplishment.

I know that I am mentally sorting life out when I clean up the piles of well, the piles of stuff that builds up in my home. See, while I am a germ freak, (you will find my home always sanitized), I have to admit that I am not always the tidiest person in the world. I like to tell myself (and others) that I am a neat freak, but having observed myself for the past few years, I have come to terms with the fact that I am no longer a neat freak (although sometimes, where I have to start the cleanup task, I really wish I were).

Funny. When I was married, I was a total neat freak. I would stay up until 4am cleaning the place. I would stress out when things were out of order. Maybe that was because so much in my life was in disarray, that I had to maintain some order in some area of my life. I also had an ulcer, and ultimately a stress attack which led me to the decision to file for divorce.

Now, my home is happier, more content than ever (thank you GOD!) but it can actually get rather untidy at times. By this, I mean that for example, you will see things like a pile of my children's books sitting on the sofa on top of the big blanket they lie under when they are reading. In the kitchen, you will find dishes in the sink, left from the afternoon snacks/nutella/bowls of cereal the kids ate when hungry. In the hallway, you will find shoes, coats, knapsacks sometimes put neatly to the side, and sometimes left where they took them off. Kids. Sigh.

In the bedrooms, there are stuffed toys, laundry to be put away, clothes that need to be washed...

But it's OK. I can come to terms with it. Because ultimately, in this home, for the first time in my life, I feel safe. I feel secure. I feel like I can let my guard down, and most of all, I feel content. And that contentment is also a first for me.

While I am not advocating for an untidy house, I can honestly say that I think part of my contentment comes from having a space where I can let my guard down. It's a space where I can rest, and not stress about what others will think, because I choose who to invite in. I choose (very carefully) who I welcome into my home. Only the non-judgmental people are welcome here. Only my true friends. And it's come to a point that others feel it. I have been told by many people that there is a special warmth that welcomes them when they visit me. And I believe it, because I feel it too.

So, I will take the untidy home any day. There is something to be said about not stressing about things. I wouldn't trade this for the world. So thank you pile of books. Thank you backpacks, thank you dirty dishes. Thank you for helping me let go.