Woke up in a cleaning mood today. Not having that happen very often motivates me to "use it or lose it." Tackled the stove first. Ran the burners and drip pans through the dishwasher, wiped down the top and back. Turned my attention to the underside of the range hood. EE-yuck.
Now I do not claim to be a good cook. I am proud, however, to call myself a messy one. I figure that what I lack in creativity and taste can be compensated for with volume and distance traveled. When I cook something, you KNOW I've been there.
So it came as no surprise to find enough raw materials under the range hood to reconstitute into a passable campfire meal. I sprayed everything down, and left it to soak. There is something in cleaning supplies that triggers introspection in me.
I thought about why it is that I don't clean under there more often. I realized that it really is a metaphor for life. The places I am busiest, messiest, are those places I don't often contemplate. Most of living goes on in my mind and soul, but the externals, the burners and dials, get the most attention. The filter for yuck, the fan filter, in this case, catches all the crud and keeps it there.
Do I spend more time on my body, my outward activities and belongings than I do to the filters in my mind and soul? Do they need cleaning?
Hmm.. Something to ponder.
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