I have this magic gift. Whenever I walk into a messy room, I snap my fingers and everything snaps into place. The trash is trashed. The laundry laundered. Clutter decluttered. All in an instant. I don’t know if it’s telekinesis, reality warping, or simply an army of enchanted cleaning fairies. The job is just done. The mess is gone.
Now you might wonder why the bedroom clutter, piles of laundry, or stack of dishes are able to reach such unwieldy levels when I possess this magical gift. Truth is, I never consider this ability until things have gotten out of hand, until the thought of having to clean up the mess is almost paralyzing.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve snapped my fingers when I’ve faced an overwhelming mess, hoping for a little magic. Even at 40, I still snap. “Maybe this time,” I think. “Maybe this time it’ll actually work.”
It’s never worked.
But I always do it.
Just in case.
I never learn my lesson. The real magic would be cleaning the mess before it spirals out of control. Folding the laundry in a regular routine. Tidying the house before the kids’ toys stack up. Doing the dishes before a few turns into a few dozen.
The mysterious souls who consistently keep up with household chores are sorcerers in my book. They’ve truly mastered the dark arts.
I don’t know why I defer uncomfortable activities until their dread turns into despair. It’s more than mere laziness. More profound than simple procrastination. Avoidance rules my life. Why do I believe that some future version of me will handle all this better than today’s me?
It’s deeper than just dishes and laundry, clutter and trash. Household chores are just the most visible version of this lie I believe.
Deep down, I’m convinced it’s worth real suffering later to avoid small discomfort today. I would never word it this way. My brain is much too clever for that. But I believe it all the same.
I avoid uncomfortable conversations until life’s little issues boil over, burning people close to me. I neglect my health (and avoid the doctor’s office) until my weight and lab work show things have gotten out of control. I put off simple problems at work, letting them grow into needless complications.
Avoid it now. Deal with it later. Maybe things will magically get better, and we’ll all live happily ever after. I believe in this sinister fairy tale. I’m personally, professionally, and profoundly under its spell.
I try to snap my fingers to clean up the mess. I’m desperate to avoid the hard work required when things have gotten too far out of hand.
It’s never worked.
But I always do it.
Just in case.
There are no quick fixes when we’ve allowed neglect to take root. Things would have been so much easier if we had done the daunting work as it appeared. We understand this. But we didn’t do it. We don’t do it.
I know I should have taken care of the mess while it was still small. I should have kept up with the laundry and dishes. I should have eaten better. I should have scheduled the appointment and had the conversation. I should have dealt with this problem before it became the problem.
So, yes, the real magic would have been dealing with things before they got out of hand.
But what I should have done no longer matters.
What matters is what I’m going to do to clean things up now.
And how I’ll choose to handle the next mess differently.
I can’t snap my fingers and fix things in an instant.
All I can do is roll up my sleeves and get to work.