I cleaned my house yesterday. For anyone who knows me, this is a magnificent accomplishment. My philosophy is a clean room is the sign of a cluttered mind. So, my house isn’t really messy per say, just an appropriately disorganized environment for my creative consciousness. I have a friend who complains that he can’t come visit me without leaving with some sort of paint, or marker stain on his clothes. I tell him it’s a souvenir, from the most magical place on earth.
But every once in a while, it gets a bit much and I have to clean up. When I finally get to the cleaning part, I actually really enjoy it. There’s something oddly relaxing about mundanely removing a mess. Apparently, I’m not the only one who gets joy from getting rid of junk. Studies performed at Arizona Statue University show that maintaining a clean home makes people feel “happy, satisfied, comfortable, and healthy”. Associate Professor of Psychology, Carol Nemeroff, Ph.D., says, “The urge we have to clean may be a trait that is biologically programmed into us,” says Nemeroff. “And, because we know that good hygiene leads to good health, cleaning may ultimately be related to a basic survival instinct.”
According to research from the U.K., 57% of the population finds a feeling of satisfaction in cleaning. I guess I’m in the other 43% of the test subjects. I have a roommate in the fall for the first time in a year and a half. My biggest worry is that she may not be able to handle the mess that results from my liberal lifestyle. Whoever lives with me has to be well prepared. It’s not that I don’t like a clean house, it’s just that I don’t mind so much when it’s not. I’ve met other people who share similar opinions. I feel like it’s one of those things that very defined in a person, either you can handle a mess or you can’t. Research shows that 38% of women and 24% of men feel real stress about living in a messy environment.
Then there are people who really can’t. People who have clinical issues with cleanliness, to the point where it begins to control their lives. In the United States, approximated 3.3 million people suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder, that’s 2.3% of the population between ages of 18 – 24. That means that 1 in 200 American adults have OCD, and twice as many have reportedly had OCD at some point in their lives. OCD is on the long list of anxiety disorders, like agoraphobia and post-traumatic stress disorder, that terrify me. Whenever I see disease like this, in the frequent Grey’s Anatomy reruns I’ve been watching all summer, it just stumps me a bit. I can’t imagine having a chemical imbalance like that, affecting my life in every way.
It makes you realize how much chemistry and arrangement of neuron affect who we are. There’s more minor versions of this chemical control on our personalities; ticks, habits, addictions, they’re all rooting in brain chemistry. The realization that so much of ourselves is determined by biology shifted the way I interact with people. I accept that there’s certain decisions my friends make that I can never understand (Though, there’s probably many more of mine that leave them puzzled). Once you realize certain aspects of someone else will be inherently different due to their genetics, interaction between people gets beyond dominating the conversation, winning an argument, or changings some else’s opinions to your own, and there’s nothing left to do but learn.
I’ve always been a firm believer in the idea that ignorance is the root of prejudice. One of my gay friends used to always instruct the homophobic to get a gay friend. It was the best advice against exclusion I had ever heard. Friendship is one of the most powerful tools in fighting malicious ignorance.
So yes, there are certain decisions that other people make that we have to accept we can’t understand. But, the closer we get to people with differing opinions, the more we begin to, if not understand, at least respect their viewpoints too.