Rage Cleaning

Rage cleaning

When I’m processing something really big—or just trying to settle after a full day—I like to take some time to do what I call “rage cleaning.” It’s not that I’m angry or feeling rage-y. It’s more that I’m processing… or maybe just giving my nervous system a chance to regulate itself. It’s often how my mind finally gets permission to rest. I pop on some Spotify cleaning tunes and suddenly I’m unstoppable.

Sometimes this happens when I have a whole Saturday or Sunday to myself with no plans—a rare event lately in my otherwise very full calendar. Other times it’s what I call the “five-minute tidy,” which mysteriously turns into a full-blown, hour-long production. And if I’m being honest, sometimes it happens when I’m procrastinating something else. It’s amazing how motivated you can become when there’s something more important you’re actively avoiding.

The most recent rage clean wasn’t even on a weekend. I got a surprise day off thanks to a snowstorm. Almost all my clients had cancelled due to sickness or weather, so I went home. Now, a snowstorm is usually a great excuse to slow down and chill—but I was full of energy and came home to completely reorganize my basement instead. Naturally.

I switched shelves from one room to another. It’s amazing how much a 5’1” woman can lift and move by herself when she’s determined (and maybe a little fueled by adrenaline). I organized and labeled all of my camping equipment. And I should probably confess that I’m a bit of a self-proclaimed gear enthusiast. I have camping gear for solo trips, canoe camping, trekking—you name it. Sleeping bags for every season. A different stove for each type of adventure, whether that’s an off-grid tiny home or backcountry tent camping. You get the idea. There is… a lot of gear.

I hung hooks for my different-sized packs, hiking poles, and the one sleeping bag that absolutely refused to fit on the shelf. Honestly, large nails in the wall totally count as hooks, right? I even found a place to hang my ladder on a screw a previous owner had left near the ceiling. When you live in a small house like mine, creative storage isn’t optional—it’s survival. Did I mention I don’t have a garage?

Lucy our cat making sure it smells OK!

Next came the skis, poles, and boots. Between my daughter and me, we have seven pairs of skis: classic, skate, downhill, and one pair of rock skis just for me. And don’t even get me started on downhill ski helmets for the four of us who live here. Those boys have huge heads, which means impressively large helmets.

Then I tackled the main room, which had been housing summer tires, leftover Christmas decorations, and also doubles as our gym space—with a stationary bike, weight bench, and assorted random fitness equipment. This open space often becomes the official dumping ground for things I’ll “get to later.” It’s also where the kids hang out with their friends. Our house is a bit of a revolving door for “bigs,” and it’s not uncommon to head downstairs and find two or three teens or young adults sleeping after a long night of video games, hanging out, or making questionable beverage decisions.

Now the shelves hold blankets, pillows, and a few sleep mats for said sleepovers. The weights are stacked neatly, and the tires are tucked behind the unused 1970s bar. One day I’ll renovate and tear that tiki bar down… but today was not that day.

All of this purging and organizing took about six or seven hours, with breaks for snacks (obviously). And wow—did I ever feel better. My random thoughts quieted for a while, and the mental chaos that needed processing felt lighter and, oddly enough, more organized too.

I’d love to say that my basement—with space for friends, storage, and laundry—will stay this way for a while. But already there’s been a gathering of young women, the sleep mats are still out, and the pillows aren’t quite put away. And that’s okay. I want this space to feel like home for the many “bigs” who come and go. The work was done—for them and for my own mental health.

Now the real question is… what do I rage clean next?