Life From the Point of View of a Freshly Mopped Floor

"To be able to hold on to your sanity, that is your mental health, in this modern world, one must be a little insane. That being said, I should be one of the sanest people in the world." -Anon.

I have thought long and hard about how I want to approach this blog entry. Should I do a narrative? Mm, I could, but is that the most effective means? Can I tie this into my next series of essays? Not a chance. Where did I even come up with this question? That I can answer: I was searching around online seeing if I could come up with some additional blog ideas and I came across this one.

This question you could either be silly, perverse or incredibly philosophical with (don't worry, I won't get too far into the latter one). But before one can really start talking about points of view, we have to establish which room this floor is in. Obviously, by the title "mopped floor" I am referring to a hardwood or tile floor. Carpet floors are for wimps and are not manly. 

But the type of floor surface is irrelevant as we still need to consider what room "we" as the floor are in. Are we in the living room? Kitchen? Bedroom? Heaven forbid we are in the bathroom....for innuendo sake, let's just stay away from the bathroom. Smells are bad enough, I don't want visuals. 

The answer of what it would be like, having your face mopped and vision cleared would be akin to wiping off the condensation from the morning shower. Foggy and then clear. A whole world that was blurry opens up and becomes clear. Think, though, how much you could witness as a floor (and a freshly mopped one, at that): life. Multiple generations. From a new couple, to a family, to the same couple now old with children and even younger grandchildren.

One question, though, I gotta ask, what would it feel like? Would it hurt every time someone walked over you? Or would it tickle?  Maybe you wouldn't feel a thing, it's a hard-skin type of thing.

I know this is silly, but seriously - how would you view the daily activities of a family or inhabitants if you were the floor? 

Really seriously, though.

Take this analogy (or, okay, fanciful mulling) and apply it to your life. What room are you stuck in as the floor? See, though, unlike a floor which is in place for 20+ years and witnesses nearly as much as the walls of a house do (perhaps more...where did you throw your dirty laundry today?) they absorb a lot of events in there lifetime. In one spot. Immovable. Not going anywhere. Not even an inch. Unless you have a loose nail...but bygones. 

I am a people watcher by past time (not a creepy one, hopefully) so I can safely say that I have absorbed a more than normal amount of human interaction; perhaps this is why some of my friends call me the pocket guru. Point being, is that when we get tunnel vision we miss out on a lot. We loose perspective, perhaps a lot like a dirty floor does. But when it gets mopped...hello world! 

Call me crazy, but often times for us ourselves to regain perspective we need to clean off/out whatever it is blocking our view.  Look at things through a different filter, or no filter at all. Perhaps this is why the mopped floor appeals to me. Having personal experience and firsthand observations also helps to....rearrange the furniture, if you will. You are familiar enough with your surroundings that you are willing to move things around so they look different, maybe promote a different kind of activity or funnel traffic in a different pattern. 

I could keep going, but I think you already get my point, and have enough food for thought already.