I hate cleaning.
I know everyone says that, but I really hate it. Family lore has it that when I was a kid, I had a friend that when she and I had a play date, she would create games where my room got cleaned. If she’s reading this, I wonder if she remembers. At any rate, when she moved away in 4th grade, I did not clean my room to remember her.
This never changed for me. I’ve always hated cleaning and probably always will. I realize that part of this is because i’m INTP. As a P, I tend towards preferring a structure that is seemingly chaotic. Trust me–the organization is there. But I’m never going to be able to explain it. But I recognize (begrudgingly) that I live in a J world. So, I clean. I organize my home and my desk so that it is recognized as organized by others. And I clean because I know I have to. Because it’s what I need to do. Because it’s expected.
But cleaning for Pesach has always been different. Perhaps because it has a purpose. Cleaning for a purpose has always made sense to me. Cleaning for camp I always understood because camp had to look good when the campers got there. Cleaning for the first day of school made sense because the school has to look good. That I getl That I embrace. And Pesach is connected to that. The process of cleaning out the chametz…and the rest of the junk…is cathartic and has an end goal. It works for me.
Perhaps, Pesach is my external motivation. And it’s one that works. And it does feel good to make my first Passover recipe once my kitchen is clean. And feel good to smell the cooking and know that the tastes of Pesach approach.
Maybe, the preparation isn’t that bad. But I still hate cleaning.