Is Your Own House Clean?

Is your own house clean?

I came across this question years ago. It’s haunted me ever since.

At first it felt like just another clever saying. But the more I sat with it, the more I noticed the sneaky thoughts judging how someone looked, how they spoke.

It’s not how I want to live.

I started looking at my own ugly patterns. How I’d rush through conversations claiming to be busy. How I’d fixate on controlling a situation to get the outcome I wanted.

Now I try to catch myself in the small moments.

Before I judge a distracted driver, I think about a time I was in a rush.

Before I snicker at someone’s mistake, I remember my own clumsy mishaps.

If my house isn’t clean, I have no business trying to fix someone else’s.