I wouldn’t say I mind housework. I mean I actually get a rush of natural endorphins when I stand back and look at my clean house after dusting and mopping and sweeping and putting things back in their rightful place. It’s a habit drilled into me from childhood. This is the way we clean the house, clean the house, clean the house, this is the way we clean the house early Saturday morning. I can remember singing that song as a kid.
My enthusiasm for Saturday morning housework has waned over the last year, however. I got to thinking about it. What once brought joy had somehow become mundane, lifeless. Why? Something was missing, but what? I had not quite put my finger on it until I used the present my kids gave me this past Christmas.
For several weeks, the Roomba sat in its Christmas box, hanging on to the torn edges of red and green wrapping paper and looking conspicuously out of season. Admittedly, new gadgets intimidate me, especially artificially intelligent ones.
My son made me promise to try it before he trekked back to college in Montana. So early one Saturday morning, I took the first small step. I took it out of the box. To me this was a herculean feat and deserved celebration, something I learned about from reading Tiny Habits, by BJ Fogg. Celebrating even the smallest of victories paves the way to continued success. I did a happy dance.
The next small step was reading the quick start manual to learn how to use the new gadget. I had conjured up all kinds of technical gymnastic hoops I would have to jump through to get the dang thing working. But this was way easy: PLUG IT IN. The robotic vacuum went right to work, sweeping the living room, then the hallway, then the kitchen. Room after room, it kept on doing its job.
For whatever reason, this gave me a boost and I went right to work. Side by side, Geoffrey (that is the robotic vacuum’s name) and I worked together cleaning the house. I worked as long and as tirelessly as Geoffrey did. I even got into the nooks and crannies.
And then it dawned on me. That something missing from my Saturday chores was support. Specifically, support from people. As a kid, I worked shoulder to shoulder with my four siblings happily cleaning the house until it shined. We even whistled while we worked. (At least that’s how I remember it.) And then as a mom, my kids and I cleaned the house together, every Saturday morning.
With my youngest child now off to college these last two years, the lion’s share of Saturday chores falls to me. Alone. By myself. And consequently, I have had less spring in my step.
But now that Geoffrey is helping, my mojo is back. I know it sounds silly, but I feel supported. I can do it. I am not alone.
Whatever the task is, most of us do better with someone else by our side. We need support. And there is no shame in that. That is just the way we are wired. You have heard it said, “No man (or woman) is an island.”
Perhaps, until we ask for help, we stay stranded on our own “I-land.”
At Oregon Weight and Wellness, we provide the support people need to make lifestyle changes, big or small, in the areas of nutrition, activity, sleep, and stress management. We can’t do the work for you, but we can come along side and go to work with you. No shame. No judgment. Just support. A thoughtful question. A gentle reminder. A helpful suggestion. An appropriate celebration. Never forced, always with permission.
We also offer groups which are facilitated by our certified health coach, Rachelle Mathios. Nothing gives Rachelle more joy than to help people create their own vision and see that vision come to fruition.
The groups are structured around books that stimulate change. They offer support, encouragement, accountability, and coaching. Not surprisingly, the people who have had the most success have participated in our groups.
Maybe you are feeling stuck and not sure how to take the next step in lifestyle change. There is a way off your island. You don’t have to go this road alone. Give us a call at Oregon Weight and Wellness and we’ll get to work with you.
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