“Clean up after yourself!” – few phrases are more firmly embedded in my memory of childhood than this admonition from my mom. She came by it honestly, of course. Her mother Edythe, was always (so it seemed) a stickler for propriety and neatness. We were not suffered to leave clothes around our bedrooms, toys around the family room, dirty dishes, etc. etc. At least that’s the memory that I have constructed in the decades since. At summer camp, making the bed, sweeping the cabin, and policing the grounds of litter were all parts of the daily regimen. The distance from history to mythology is never far and nowhere closer than in the events and relationships of early childhood.
It might be suggested, looking at my life since those years in suburban Detroit six decades or so ago, that I have well and truly incorporated this neatness sensibility. Indeed, it might be suggested (and actually has been!) that I have often honed this sensibility into a fetish or compulsion. My wife, who has been on the receiving end of my insistence more than anyone else, has often urged me in such circumstances to “Get a life!” or similar sentiments and she has (at least part of) a good point.
My concern with order extends well beyond the physical condition of our house and other places where I spend time; nor is it entirely physical, my computer is tidy, with stacked and nested files and folders so that there are only three top-line folders on my desktop. The substance of my life (at least selected portions thereof) gets similar treatment: checkbooks are balanced regularly and calendars are populated with reminders. My history and scifi books are each alphabetized by author. I delight in getting the grocery shopping stowed promptly. Ditto for unpacking after a trip. There is no clutter on my bathroom counter. I could go on, but you get the idea.
I remember back in college, accounting, order, and control were tools I used to cope with my vast uncertainty and insecurity. I may have had no idea what was actually happening in my life, but damned if I couldn’t keep track of precisely how much I was spending on food, beer, books, etc. I was constructing a highly artificial island of order; a tiny corner where I could be sure I knew what was happening. It was a site of solace and calm and (nominal) psychological safety and, as I look back, a hint as to the stridency with which I still sometimes cling to the image of neatness/cleanliness/order. If I can’t bring order to my universe (see my comments from 050324 about entropy), at least I can bring the appearance of order. It’s a way to fight off death (the ultimate dis-order from a personal perspective).
Even as I recognize that I may carry this approach to life to an extreme, I can still respect the core sentiment. As my wife has noted, better a neat-nik than a slob.
I similarly enjoy planning: trips around the world or weekend errands, dinner party menus/cooking schedules, stacks of upcoming books to be read. It’s the same motivation, just future oriented. I am fully aware that the only thing we know about any plan is that life will unfold differently, but the sense of coherence gives me comfort nonetheless. After all, whether due to serendipity or SNAFU, contingency is just an opportunity to develop a new plan!
Speaking of planning, the ultimate planning…for the “post-mortem” period… is increasingly in mind as my body works less-and-less well. I spent a bunch of time a few years ago writing out a pretty extensive document (called “contingency”) which includes lists of things, accounts, assets, and ‘to-do’s’ for whoever is around for the final “clean-up.” I’m pretty proud of it, actually. It’s a gift to those who will be giving me a gift when I’m not there to thank them. But even before that sentiment; I am motivated by a sense that it’s “my stuff” and I should be the one to clean it up (as much as possible).
I am sure that my approach to environment/climate issues –while well-grounded in fear and science—also finds some roots in this deep personality trait. The line from not littering to using less water and fossil fuels to planting trees to “clean up” carbon is a short one. It’s an interesting intersection of personal psychology and global impact. As I have noted elsewhere, externalizing nature and ignoring those costs has been a hallmark of capitalism and modernity’s fixation on human power/domination. The legacy of my (and prior) generations on the world of the late 21C will likely be seen as highly problematic in many ways.
Tidying up the distortions and detritus of the “Anthropocene” era will require lots of people over decades. This time it’s Mother Nature saying to all of us: “it’s time to clean up your room.” Shirley and Edythe would be proud.
It might be suggested, looking at my life since those years in suburban Detroit six decades or so ago, that I have well and truly incorporated this neatness sensibility. Indeed, it might be suggested (and actually has been!) that I have often honed this sensibility into a fetish or compulsion. My wife, who has been on the receiving end of my insistence more than anyone else, has often urged me in such circumstances to “Get a life!” or similar sentiments and she has (at least part of) a good point.
My concern with order extends well beyond the physical condition of our house and other places where I spend time; nor is it entirely physical, my computer is tidy, with stacked and nested files and folders so that there are only three top-line folders on my desktop. The substance of my life (at least selected portions thereof) gets similar treatment: checkbooks are balanced regularly and calendars are populated with reminders. My history and scifi books are each alphabetized by author. I delight in getting the grocery shopping stowed promptly. Ditto for unpacking after a trip. There is no clutter on my bathroom counter. I could go on, but you get the idea.
I remember back in college, accounting, order, and control were tools I used to cope with my vast uncertainty and insecurity. I may have had no idea what was actually happening in my life, but damned if I couldn’t keep track of precisely how much I was spending on food, beer, books, etc. I was constructing a highly artificial island of order; a tiny corner where I could be sure I knew what was happening. It was a site of solace and calm and (nominal) psychological safety and, as I look back, a hint as to the stridency with which I still sometimes cling to the image of neatness/cleanliness/order. If I can’t bring order to my universe (see my comments from 050324 about entropy), at least I can bring the appearance of order. It’s a way to fight off death (the ultimate dis-order from a personal perspective).
Even as I recognize that I may carry this approach to life to an extreme, I can still respect the core sentiment. As my wife has noted, better a neat-nik than a slob.
I similarly enjoy planning: trips around the world or weekend errands, dinner party menus/cooking schedules, stacks of upcoming books to be read. It’s the same motivation, just future oriented. I am fully aware that the only thing we know about any plan is that life will unfold differently, but the sense of coherence gives me comfort nonetheless. After all, whether due to serendipity or SNAFU, contingency is just an opportunity to develop a new plan!
Speaking of planning, the ultimate planning…for the “post-mortem” period… is increasingly in mind as my body works less-and-less well. I spent a bunch of time a few years ago writing out a pretty extensive document (called “contingency”) which includes lists of things, accounts, assets, and ‘to-do’s’ for whoever is around for the final “clean-up.” I’m pretty proud of it, actually. It’s a gift to those who will be giving me a gift when I’m not there to thank them. But even before that sentiment; I am motivated by a sense that it’s “my stuff” and I should be the one to clean it up (as much as possible).
I am sure that my approach to environment/climate issues –while well-grounded in fear and science—also finds some roots in this deep personality trait. The line from not littering to using less water and fossil fuels to planting trees to “clean up” carbon is a short one. It’s an interesting intersection of personal psychology and global impact. As I have noted elsewhere, externalizing nature and ignoring those costs has been a hallmark of capitalism and modernity’s fixation on human power/domination. The legacy of my (and prior) generations on the world of the late 21C will likely be seen as highly problematic in many ways.
Tidying up the distortions and detritus of the “Anthropocene” era will require lots of people over decades. This time it’s Mother Nature saying to all of us: “it’s time to clean up your room.” Shirley and Edythe would be proud.
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