Thursday, October 9, 2008

A meditation on dirt

Here is the truth: the more time you have had at home, the more, shall I say, idiosyncratic you may become in your definition of clean. As I see it, this is because the more you are around the house, the more attentive you become, and the closer you get to actually seeing the dirt being created. I feel like I might actually catch the smears appearing on the counter. I hear the grains of litter roll across the floor. I sense particles in the air, looking for a place to land. It feels like a battle and the dirt is always winning. 

As I write this, the dust is gathering subversively beneath my feet, ready at any moment to gather into an small fluff just large enough to be eye-catching. The more time you have to think about these things, the more annoying they become. I should be able to prevail here, I am always thinking. I have the time. I have the resources. I have the training. 

But life itself is entropic. Cookies will always crumble, flowers will wilt, hairs will fall, fingers will leave a shadow of themselves behind. The struggle against dirt is indeed a continual one, a microcosm of our struggle to put matter in its place, uphold categorizations we've carefully constructed, impose order on the impending chaos. What happens if we do not clean? No one knows exactly – and that's frightening.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I think many male college students know what happens if you don't clean. It is frightening.