Fresh Laundry in Opposite World
Turns out, counter intuition is the ticket. We get the message to “trust our gut.” Maybe sometimes that has value, but I’m not sure. I find more and more that if I do the opposite of my first instinct, it turns out to be the right choice. Some people refer to this as “contrary action.”
My husband John and I were staying in an AirBNB. I accidentally placed my curling iron down on a plastic placemat on a wooden table in the bathroom. I quickly picked it back up, but not before it left a mark. I told John. He said, “Just flip it over.” I thought about it, but then decided I wanted to tell the owner. It was a small mark, but still. I caused it. It didn’t feel good to hide it and not take responsibility and offer to go to the store and replace it. He will tell you I have his blessing to tell you this story, by the way.
I’m not always good at admitting a mistake. Plastic placemats are easy for me. That said, there are other categories. Sometimes I default to hiding, not coming clean. But here’s the thing. Hiding is awful. It’s dark and musty and mildewly. It’s grotesque, really.
I recently overheard a random conversation about cesspools. I’d never really thought about them before. Listening to the conversation, I realized, Eww, the junk just sits there—nowhere to go. Coincidentally, the day before, I’d driven by a business with a sign advertising their cesspool services. The thought of opting for a cesspool and not a functioning sewer—if it’s available to me—makes no sense. Why would I choose the cesspool? I think we need to get that stuff out.
I’m old enough to remember the phrase, “Don’t air your dirty laundry.”
Laundry 101 teaches you that if you let the stain set in, it will leave a mark.
The cover-ups are sometimes worse than the crimes.
It doesn’t feel good to make a mistake, but it sure feels good to admit it. The Tide-fresh five minutes or so after the words hit the air….sometimes it’s the unmentionables aired on the line that make the world a touch more clean.