It’s time for a new mop head. I remove the wrinkled grubby piece of sponge and attach a brand new yellow one. I dip the mop into the bucket of warm soapy water, pull it back and squeeze.
The mop goes lopsided, forming a foam ‘L’. Half the plastic supporting structure has come adrift. I squeeze it by hand and press it against the floor, at which point half the supporting structure completely separates from the all but the sponge.
What should I do? It’s a brand new mop head. I hate to waste it. But it is not easy to use without the blue plastic squeeze bits attached.
My thoughts go first to replacing the mop … consumerism … and then straight to a class on that very topic I took last week. Clearly, my mind is not on housekeeping. That’s okay, so long as the floor gets cleaned. I get down on my hands and knees and mop the old fashioned way, although with a new yellow squeeze mop head rather than a rag.
Socio-Cultural Analysis and a Mop
It is just possible that I am overthinking the situation. I dip the detached mop head into the bucket with my bare hands and wring it out. In the minor inconvenience of a broken mop, I sense that God has an important lesson to teach me … as important as what I learnt in class. Perhaps even more so, because I’m learning this lesson at heart level.
Bear with me … I’ll get to the ‘take-home’ message soon enough … as soon as I’m finished mopping the bathroom, laundry and kitchen floors. First, let me indulge in some class review as it relates to my mop saga. We were taught to ask four questions as we analyse particular issues in society.
Question 1: What is going on?
I wish I could say that I’d worn the mop out through rigorous use, but the truth is that the plastic has simply decayed. That’s the short answer.
The bigger issue is that we live in a throw-away society here in Australian suburbia. The plastic was never going to last long. It is cheap to produce, though. In fact, I can replace this style of mop next time I go to the supermarket if I choose, making only a small dent on my grocery budget.
Question 2: Why is this happening?
It was cheaply made. Plain and simple. In class, we were taught to consider the history, sociology, culture, economy, politics and religion behind a particular issue. A lot could be written on how these apply to my poor old mop. I will limit my pondering in this blog post to just one area … culture.
My cheap almost-disposable mop symbolises consumerism.
Books could be written on that topic, and have been. As for the mop, I want something with which to clean my floors. I want the gadget to be cheap. I want the process of cleaning my floors to be quick. I don’t want to invest anymore money, time or energy than is necessary. I have better things to do than mop my floor … or so I think.
Question 3: What’s it like?
Looking beyond the mop now, I ask myself, ‘What’s it like to live in a throw-away society?’
It’s clean. It’s hygienic. It’s convenient. But our garbage tips are overflowing. Neighbouring nations are becoming pickier about receiving our recycling. Our lives are supposedly simpler and yet we try to cram an awful lot into them. We want possessions, experiences, opportunities or connections and so we think that we should have them. Our physical and mental health is suffering. Junk food soothes our frazzled souls but not our guts. (Okay … perhaps you don’t succumb to the lure of chocolate and chips when life feels like it is spinning out of control, but I just might……)
I’ve strayed from the mop. But you get the picture.
Question 4: How good (or just) is this?
Well, it’s rather annoying that my mop broke. But it’s not the end of the world.
As for the impact that consumerism is having, however, in terms of the environment, justice for those who produce our cheap commodities, and the physical and mental health of our residents, that is another matter.
Is consumerism all bad? No, of course not. Simply by living, we consume … we all need water, air and food to live. It’s the way we go about it that is the problem. We neglect truth and justice, as one of God’s prophets put it. (See Zechariah 8:16-17. The whole chapter is about an ideal society. It’s fabulous and I’m enjoying spending time in it this week).
Lessons from the Backyard
I take my poor old mop to the backyard to try and break it in half. It won’t fit in the bin as it is. I fail. It will have to languish in a corner until the next hard waste collection in my area.
The overgrown garden reminds me of how, in creation, we don’t usually get what we want instantly. Not good things, anyhow. Plants take time and the right conditions to grow. Who am I to think that I should be able to have what I want when I want it and with minimal expense or bother? Coffee … particular music … success in my work … dinner … connection with friends … the list goes on.
Limits
I sit down on the porch, defeated by the mop. The cat meows at my feet. She is expecting a treat. I often sit on the porch with a cuppa and a treat for the cat and myself both.
I try to explain to Her Feline Highness that we need to abide by healthy limits. We are creatures, not the Creator. We’re not like God in that we speak and something comes into existence. In fact, I remind her, as her carer, I am responsible to care for her … and that doesn’t mean giving her endless snacks.
Living within our limits, taking a stand against the excesses of consumerism, is easier said than done. Both for the carer and the cat. The kitty rubs against my legs, meowing plaintively, gazing up at me with those big green eyes. How can I resist?
As for the mop, I will replace it but will spend a little more money next time and buy something more durable, hence more environmentally responsible. I’m not going to the extent of mopping my floor on my hands and knees every time, though, even though I daresay that would be best for the environment.
The Main Lesson
As for that lesson I sense the LORD would have me learn, it is this:
Accept limits.
Our resources aren’t limitless – not the world’s natural resources nor our resources of money, time and energy. We’re not God. We’re creatures, albeit created in the image of God and given the responsibility of caring for creation.
Personally, this applies not only to my mop but also to how I use my time. One significant stress in my life is the inability to balance many good and desirable roles. I want to be a good writer, a good student, a good teacher, a good translator, a frequent traveller, a filial family member, a hospitable host, have a lovely home and garden and exercise every day. While I’m not about to drop anything right now, I am challenged to reassess my goals for each day. I can’t do everything every day. And that’s okay. Just because I want these things doesn’t mean that I should have them all right now.
The broken mop, as it turned out, started a whole train of thought, integrating what we’ve been learning in class and other matters that have been on my mind lately.
Consumerism in its extreme, wanton consumption, flies in the face of our God-given mandate as God’s image bearers. Let’s take a stand against it, aware that this aspect of our culture is flawed. Let’s steward our resources well and live responsibly, not striving to have everything we want nor to be everything to everybody every minute of every day.
That came a long way from the frustration of a broken mop.