MetroPolar

Dispatches from a New York City Shrink

Greg Dillon is a psychiatrist in private practice in New York City and an Assistant Professor of Public Health and Clinical Psychiatry at the Weill Cornell Medical College. See full bio

April 1, 2008,

Spring Cleaning

Greg Dillon tempers the impulse to clean house

I have seven surfboards stashed in the back hall/ fire exit of our apartment. Somehow, I have convinced myself that I need all seven. A longboard for small days, a short board for the rare, epic summer days, a wider, floatier fish for summer mush, a mid-sied, hybrid, for medium days, or spring, when I'm too out of shape to paddle the short board. One short, fat, egg with blue flames that I call "Gordito", etc. These, and others, make up my "quiver", the boards I need, or think I need, to cover all situations. Ignore the fact that the metro-surf in and around Rockaway is merely serviceable, and it makes sense.

Last weekend, I spring cleaned, tackling closet and dresser as a first pass. The impulse to spring clean must be genetic, akin to molting, rebirth, phoenix from the wintery ashes, etc. But the angles on the process are multiple. Do we spring clean because we are wiser, and we realize the frivolity of harboring so much baggage (clothes, books, friends, etc.)? Is it because we are fickle, impressionable, and our moods, likes, dislikes, weights, styles, change with the seasons? Or are we impulsive, acting out our desires, angers, dreads, and fears in Hefty bagged bundles for points afar like the dumpster, Salvation Army, or to someone who might want them?

Many patients seem to want psychic spring cleaning as well. It is a time of change, and they get impatient to have their insides change to keep pace with the anticipated external changes. Patients ask me for deadlines. "When will I be done... ready...better, etc." Nothing wrong with motivation, drive, a kick in the ass, a jumpstart. But, slow down. Know your motives for spring cleaning. It is probably better to hold on to your baggage a little longer and try to really understand why you are willing to let it go... or keep it.

Seven surfboards is a lot. Maybe it's too many for New York City. Admittedly it's a rare year when each gets equal time on the water. But, I figure, as long as I continue to try to understand my reasons for holding on to each one, and continue to give each some play, or until the fire marshal busts me, they'll stay on my back stairs. GD