The Serendipity of a Bean Salad

Attention Management and Creativity

It was the last thing I expected to do. There I was, standing in the foyer of my home with my husband and two children, in a circle, holding hands. Earlier in the day I had debated whether we should go on a family outing or stay home and clean the house. I had even taken a moment to visualize the joy of spending a splendid day together outdoors. But then I realized we would be returning to a messy, disorganized house. I wondered how I would feel if we spent the day cleaning instead, and started the week with an orderly home environment. Which vision was empowering? My picture of a smooth Monday morning, with no last minute search for misplaced items, which leaves me stressed, was indeed empowering. A clean home won out.

So, there I stood with a timer in my hand, announcing 15 minutes of silent clean up. I had never heard of silent clean up, but the thought jumped into my head and I grabbed it. The plan was to move through the house putting things back in their proper “homes,” and if you picked up someone else’s things you were to bring them to that person’s room. Thankfully, I didn’t have to explain the object of this game nor the benefit. My children didn’t care—the novelty of the silence enticed them. We started, moving with a quiet purpose, everyone picking up the ruins of some other day’s play and activity.

At the end of the 15 minutes, my son confidently informed us that we needed another 15 minutes of silence so each person could clean up the items that had arrived in their bedrooms. So we did another round. And another. Two hours later, there was my home, more organized and cleaner than I had seen it in weeks—and everyone had participated.

I was thrilled as I walked past the living room, its rug free of toys, and I joyfully gazed at my sewing table with absolutely nothing on it. I was basking in that buoyant feeling of virtuous cleanliness. I went back to my room to attend to some final items, and several minutes later headed for the kitchen to make dinner. Passing the living room again, I stopped in my tracks. The sewing table was now veiled in linen fabric, crowned with a wooden toy. The linen was anchored to the floor with my sewing scrap basket, a bag of recycled papers, and various other objects. And where were my children? Inside this fort vigorously discussing where some item should be placed!