Every March or April, millions of households undertake a transformative ritual — Spring Cleaning. They go room to room and figure out what stays, what goes and where to organize it.
Spring cleaning is also infamous for another reason. Some of the best arguments ever have happened during spring cleaning. As a loser of just about every one of these arguments, I have learned a precious and lifelong lesson. When doing spring cleaning, one’s analysis should not be limited to whether something ‘needs’ to be, or should be, thrown out. One must also incorporate a complex and unpredictable algorithm as to what will I be ‘asked’ to throw out when I, hypothetically, of course, ask my wife about that ugly, chipped vase in the basement that she has not used since we first met.
But, in all seriousness, spring cleaning is a cathartic chore, one in which when you finish — whether it takes an hour, a day, a weekend or even longer — you feel a sense of accomplishment. But really, everything you have done boils down to a couple of decisions:
Are you going to throw it out or keep it?
If you are going to keep it, where will it go?
Spring cleaning happens in our homes, in our offices, in our places of worship. It also happens on sports fields and in public parks. So, every year, we take account of the material things we have and tidy up. But if it is so important to assess our physical possessions, should we not do the same for our inner well-being?
Once, a king decided it was time to look for a wife. Heralds announced the news and invited all the eligible women of the kingdom to come to the king’s palace so he could choose. On the appointed day, the castle’s halls filled with those hoping to catch the king’s eye. Finally, after much waiting, the king and his loyal secretary entered the main hall, and the king sat down on his throne. The secretary thanked them all for coming and then said, “His Highness welcomes you all for coming. He has recently come into the possession of a mirror. This mirror is no ordinary mirror but rather a magical mirror that judges your character. For every mistake you have made in your life, the mirror will show a blemish. Anyone wishing to marry the king must first look into the mirror.”
All the women refused to look into the mirror, except for one. She was an ordinary girl from an ordinary family, yet she was not afraid to stand in front of the mirror. When the secretary asked if she was sure she wanted to see these blemishes, the girl said, “Why should I be afraid? We all have made mistakes, and we all can be forgiven and improve from those mistakes.” The king stood up and said, “This mirror’s magic is not that it shows blemishes, but by coming and standing before the mirror, this woman’s confidence and understanding has won me over.” The king married her and made her the queen.
For most of us, we are often like the hopeful brides in the palace hall – not willing to look at our blemishes. Genuine and honest introspection is often scary introspection, and you have to be ready to face the good, the bad and the ugly. But if we understand, like the ordinary girl in the story, that we all make mistakes and grow from them, then the introspection and the subsequent ‘self-cleaning’ are nothing to fear and can be pretty remarkable.