My shoe shining kit just arrived from Amazon. Until this afternoon I had never shined a pair of shoes in my life. I’ve worn plenty of shoes, but shining them never seemed like something that was worth the time or effort. Sure, shoes look nice when they’re bright and shiny, but they just end up getting dirty again, so why bother. Besides getting dirty and scuffed up, shoes ultimately fall apart from use.
I’ve also never made my bed (except for a three day stint in the second semester of my senior year of college). Sure I make it when I change my sheets and going to sleep tucked into a fresh, well-made bed is one of the best feelings in the world, but the purpose of every day bed-making always eluded me. Why take the time to tuck everything in sleeping Will was just going to pull it all out again?
Monday night, as I returned home to my awesome new apartment after a weekend away, I was greeted by an incredibly un-awesome sight – a virtual landfill of clothes, boxes, and assorted trinkets scattered throughout my bedroom. How had this happened? It couldn’t have been that messy when I left.
The age old art of maintenance has seemed to disappear in today’s fast-paced, always connected world. Who has the time to shine their shoes and make their bed when the whole wide world is beckoning us at every moment. I’ve noticed my attention span shrinking over the past few years and so far while writing this blog post I’ve opened Safari three times just to check that the Internet was still there.
Clearly I’m still figuring out the whole aspect of maintaining things in my life. While there are plenty of tools in place for maintaining relationships, finances, and blog posts (which I’ve also struggled with) these quantified tools have yet to make it to our physical world. We’re forced to rely on ourselves to make our beds, shine our shoes, and clean up our rooms. Unfortunately, we hate the mundane and live for the dopamine packets provided by constant interaction.
So why open up the black hole that has been my attempt to blog? To remind myself of the importance of maintenance and the power of actual putting thoughts into permanent, actionable statements. The hardest part is facing the reality of an un-maintained life. It’s easy to ignore the treadmill waiting for me and push it off until tomorrow. The longer we postpone something, the easier it becomes. Eventually the idea of maintaining said habit becomes much more frightening than the small, consistent commitment of going through with it.
Tomorrow at 5:45 am is the moment of truth. Do I wake up, stretch, exercise, and make my bed? Or snooze through the daily maintenance I should be performing?