Humble Beginnings

by Crystal Eves

Years ago I subscribed to a home organizing website (www.flylady.net) to learn how to get my house in order. I followed most of the instructions, adapted the site's methods to suit my needs and years later, with the help of that website, have developed routines to create the kind of home that I enjoy inhabiting.

As part of the program, the site suggested that the members walk around their homes and make a realtor's list, which is a list of all things that would have to be done to a home in order to get it into perfect shape for a sale. I read that information and right away I could see that it would be a useful activity, and because I could see both the point and the merit of the exercise, I didn't bother to do it.

"Yes," I said to myself, "that would get all the unfinished projects in the house completed and make it very nice."

I said that, but I didn't really know the magnitude of it until a few months ago when we decided to sell our house and we took the time to create that list. Let me tell you, it was a doozie, a veritable monster of a list with over one hundred items both big and small that required completion.

Despite its daunting size, with the closing date of our new house looming over us, we treated that list like a military operation, efficiently tackling each chore until our home was in top shape. It took us three exhausting weeks and some much appreciated professional help to get it done. Just to be clear, when I say professional help I am referring to the contractor and our real estate agent, although I am also very appreciative of the relief I gained through the psychiatrist and the Vicodin.

The work was definitely worth it because when we were done, the house looked great. I almost didn't want to sell it, because it had transformed into the home that I had always imagined it could be. It was clean, and uncluttered; there were no missing doorknobs or unfinished projects; every room had trim and fresh paint. Of course we had to bind the children's arms and legs with duct tape so that it would stay that way, but still, the house was gorgeous.

If I had taken that website's advice and made that list years ago, I could have enjoyed this environment, which is very pleasant and stress free, much longer. Unfortunately, I didn't take the advice, I only read it, and there is a very big difference: the difference between mentally absorbing something and actually doing it.

So often when we get helpful advice (through books, seminars and other teachings) about things we would like to improve, what we do is comprehend the information only, understanding the why and how of it with our minds but not taking the time to put it into practice. This is what I did with the website's advice and it is such a pity, because the practice is what matters most.

I'm sure we can all agree that it is of no use to understand that to be healthy we must eat well and exercise, if we only hold this understanding in minds while shoving junk into our mouths with our hands. Similarly, it is clear that reading a written description of someone else's experience of meditation will not quiet our own mind. Understanding is not enough to create change.

To grow as people in both our inner selves and our outer circumstances, we need to do that which we have never done before. That which we have already mastered can only take us to where we already are.

It is all about implementation of new methods, and about being humble enough to say, "I think I understand how this would work, but I won't really know until I try."

It was my own mental arrogance that prevented me from reaping the benefits of that home exercise for any meaningful length of time, as I have only 5 weeks left in my house. From all this I now understand that humility is the basis of all change, and I am now willing to try things before I assess their value.

From my new found humility I am also willing to admit a few things. One, that duct taping children's limbs is probably not the best way to keep the house clean (as they chew through the tape and leave horrible sticky bits everywhere) and two, that prescription drugs, no matter how pleasant, may not the best treatment for the stress of a home sale. A gal's gotta start somewhere. It's a humble beginning, but then again, that was the point.

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