How
do you know when you’re clean?
(Good
for you, recognizing that as a trick question. Give yourself ten
bonus points.)
I’m
not looking for the simple answer...
You’re
outside working in the garden. No gloves. Placing plants. Adding
fresh soil. Digging in the dirt and moving things around with
your bare hands. Head inside, turn on the water, wash your hands
and once you’re done, your hands are clean.
Not
that clean. Think a bit less obvious.
Many
folks might answer by mentioning the scent of the soap they use.
That the feeling of clean goes beyond how you think you look and
feel, but into areas involving the other senses.
And
that scent of the soap idea actually has some really great merit.
There are different ways to define the fragrance market. Perfumes
and soaps and lotions. What products are being used in the results
and so on. Still, regardless of how you break it down, consider
that conservative estimates place the annual global perfume
sales above thirty-billion dollars. That’s $30,000,000,000. Ten
zeroes. And many of those same conservative sources have the industry
growing at a steady five-percent per year.
Smelling
good is good business.
But
is it clean?
I
was trying to do a deep cleaning around the house recently. Understand,
my house isn’t dirty. I get to the dishes, do my laundry and regularly
vacuum. I’m not trying to say it’s perfect—you’ll rarely find
me making my bed, and sometimes the coffee mug and cereal bowl
can wait in the sink for a day or two—but it isn’t dirty.
This
deep cleaning was the type where you open up the pantry and discover
the containers that were outdated two years ago. As I sorted out
the bathrooms, I came across several bars of soap stored in different
places. So, I moved them together and decided that instead of
wasting them, there was no time like the present to start using
some of the ones I wouldn’t normally use.
In
general, a smart move. No need to throw out perfectly good soap.
No need to head out and buy something different just because of
a random preference. The soap works well. It’s fine. It just doesn’t
smell like the soap I’ve been using for a long time. While I look
and feel clean, that fresh soapy fragrance that I associate with
the process isn’t the same. It’s something I find myself very
aware of for a few minutes each day as I’m getting ready.
I
feel the same way at times about laundry. Moving clothes from
the washer to the dryer or a line, I don’t deeply doublecheck
every load for perfection. But when a spring breeze carries the
scent of Downey across the yard and into the house, everything
just feels right. It’s a comfort thing.
A
comfort thing. That might be a great way of considering that feeling
of clean. It’s the results you feel comfortable with.
(As
long as you aren’t thinking about the financial aspects of it
all. Then it might be just a little bit more, with about ten zeroes.)