Cleaning, a ritual of white space

Year-end Handicrafts Part 1

Cleaning, a ritual of white space

December.
The sound has a tension that makes you stand up straight,
There is a sense of tranquility that makes you want to stop and take a look.

As the end of the year approaches,
We naturally want to get our hands moving.
I peered into the depths of the shelves, wiped the window sills,
Pick up a tool you're familiar with,
Start cleaning as if tracing the outline of your life.

It's not just cleaning,
To clear away the sludge of time and restore space,
It may be a small yet profound "ritual."

To wipe away soot

In the past, December 13th was called "Soot-cleaning Day" in Japan.
The annual cleaning was taking place at shrines, temples and homes.
Soot is evidence of daily activities.
Smoke from the hearth, soot from the lamp, small traces that have accumulated over the course of everyday life.

Paying them is
Giving form to invisible gratitude.
Gently let go of the feelings that have built up over the past year.

Every time I brush off the soot,
Perhaps we are letting the wind flow inside of us as well.

The manual labor of preparing tools

The main player in cleaning may actually be the tools.
Trim the bristles of the broom and check the feel of the rag in your hands as you wring it out.
That quiet moment when you fill a bucket with water and wet a washcloth.

I saw that the corners of a worn-out rag were frayed,
"Thank you for this year," I murmur to myself.
It is the time that resides in the tools,
It's a small greeting to the days we spent together.

Cleaning is not just about tidying up the space,
It is also a time to reconnect with your tools.

Connecting spatial memories through scent

A faint fragrance that lingers after cleaning.
Steam from hot water with yuzu peel floating in it.
The lingering scent of incense soaked into the tatami mats.
The cold winter breeze that blows in when you open the window.

Scent is the key to invisible memories.
At unexpected moments, it evokes nostalgic scenes.

Year-end cleaning,
Awakening memories of space,
It makes you feel like you're back here.
It is also a quiet ritual of reunion.

My grandmother's broom, my father's rag

Thinking back to when I was young.
The palm broom that my grandmother used,
It had been used and acquired a lustrous sheen, almost like a living thing.

My father ripped up old T-shirts and used them as rags.
"This is the easiest to wipe," he said with a laugh.
The way he does it is like a craftsman,
As I looked at his back,
I felt like there was something like a prayer behind the act of cleaning.

Moving your hands means connecting your thoughts.
Memories are quietly passed down through tools.

Organizing the margins

Cleaning is not just about removing dirt,
"Trimming the margins."

There was so much stuff on the floor that it was hard to see.
A nostalgic letter hidden under a pile of papers.
The blue winter sky spreads out beyond the window.

They are created through the manual work of cleaning.
He appears before us again.

White space is not nothingness,
"Quietness" that allows important things to emerge.

To restore that serenity,
We pick up our brooms today too.

Today's Extra Step

One day at the end of the year,
Just one place,
Why not try cleaning while saying "thank you"?

For example, the stationery in the drawer.
For example, knocking on the front door.
For example, the window frames that I always overlook.

The silence that resides there,
It may gently open the door to the new year.