Spring Cleaning at the Studio

I hate to clean my house.  In fact, replace "hate" with "refuse" and we'll be a lot closer to the truth.  I have a job in large part so that I can earn enough to pay someone else to clean it.  I routinely ignore piles of paper, kids' belongings left everywhere, and spots and stains by putting on blinders as I walk through my house.  I don't make my bed in the morning (or ever).  When a bad smell is reported from the fridge, I suggest we dine out until further notice.

My house is actually very clean.  Thanks to my angel from heaven, Razija, in whom I have placed my implicit trust (and a good portion of my paycheck) to keep things in order. I don't even leave a list of tasks.  Quite the opposite, she is under specific instructions to look around and clean what needs cleaning, and then she leaves me lists of things she needs to get the job done.  She is so critical to our family's quality of life that she has actually become part of the family.  We attend each other's major events, listen to each other's problems, and share in each other's happiness.  It's perfection.

Interestingly, as much as I despise cleaning my house, I love cleaning my business.  On those rare occasions when I actually do have to lift a cleaning finger around the house, my response is typically one of deep resentment and a profound realization of what slovenly entitled good-for-nothing bums the inhabitants of my home (that would be my husband and four kids) are.  On the other hand, I look forward with relish to cleaning day at the studio, and my thoughts lean toward things like preparing a sacred place for students to practice yoga, and showing our clients that we are as committed to them as they are to the studio.  Unlike at home, at my home-away-from-home plants are routinely watered, trash cans emptied, plug-in air fresheners refilled, and yoga blankets folded properly and placed lovingly in their cubbies.

A single student or teacher comment about smudges on the wall from inversions like headstand and handstand sends me scurrying to the previously secret world of the cleaning aisle at Target, searching for the perfect all-natural solution that will provide a bacteria-free surface for yogis' tender tootsies while not damaging the paint.  A random comment about a dust bunny on a recent student survey resulted in a firmly-worded email to the teachers on the moral imperative of dustmopping. 

So today, Spring Cleaning Day at the studio, I keep asking myself, how is it that my attitude can change so dramatically on the short drive from messy home to (hopefully) pristine yoga studio?  Shouldn't I approach the cleansing and purifying of my family's nest and possessions with the same loving attention and care that I'm able to bring to my business? 

Maybe I'll figure out the answer to that weighty question when I attack the storage room later this afternoon.  In the meantime, I hope my family isn't reading this...I certainly don't want them to catch on to the fact that I actually know how to clean :)

Namaste.