Stop mopping the world when your mop is dirty

Stop Mopping the World When Your Mop Is Dirty

I have been living separately from my parents since I was a child, and I rarely came home to visit them. Somehow, they always treated me as if I were a guest in their house instead of their own child.

They would never ask me to do anything. Even when I stood up to clean the table and wash the dishes after a meal, my father would say, “Just put them in the sink, I will wash them later.” I would reply, “But Dad, I can do it.” He would insist, “No, you won’t. Just leave them there. I know how to do it better.”

Well, my dad has always been such a sweet man—since the day I was born, the sweetest. He always takes care of his daughters in every way he can, from head to toe. He didn’t want the soap and cold water to make my hands dry and itchy.

Back to the story…

One day, I came to visit my parents, and my dad was not home. My mom asked me—maybe for the first and only time. She said, “Can you help me mop the floor? Your dad is so lazy. I asked him to do it days ago, and he still hasn’t done it.”

Well, there is something about my family that might make you laugh. Yes, my mom made me laugh so hard when I heard her say that. I wanted to respond, “Come on, Mom. I have never seen you mop the floor. It’s always Dad who does it.” But I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut before she gives me a long lecture about everything she has done for the family and how hard her life has been.

Anyway, that’s another story. Back to the point: That day, I said “yes” and mopped the house. And guess what? Instead of cleaning the floor, I made a mess—a big mess.

For some magical reason, the more I tried to clean the floor, the dirtier it became! Such magic! Such a nightmare!

Just when I was about to start crying, my dad appeared—like a wizard coming to solve my problem.

The first thing he said was, “Stand back! Don’t move…!”

Well, of course, he didn’t actually say that. What he really said was, “Oh, let me do it!”

And that was the first time I received a valuable lesson from my dad—a good one, a beautiful one, a super meaningful one. He taught me the right way to mop the floor. It’s all about the mop—keeping it as clean as possible and washing it as often as necessary. If you mop a floor with a dirty mop, you only make the floor dirtier because you’re spreading the dirt!

No one can ever clean anything by spreading dirt! Simple as that!

Keeping the mop clean is the whole point of mopping the floor.

Wow, wow, wow—such a lesson!!!

I can see that this lesson is not only important and meaningful in the “mopping-house business” but in everything we do or try to do.

My dad and mom never taught us anything with words; they taught us through their own actions. And to this day, I still believe that is the best way to teach a child—not through words, but through actions and personal example. Not through opinions, but through patterns—through the way you live your life.

It’s the same with a child when he is born into this world. He is like a blank, beautiful canvas. Parents all over the world try to teach their children what is right and wrong, what is good and bad, what should and should not be done. But in doing so, they often create a mess in their child’s life. Parents rarely stop to reflect on whether their own views, thoughts, and beliefs are truly right. They are often the most “cocky” beings in the world, so convinced that everything they teach their children is “the truth.”

But do you really know what the truth is? If you did, your life wouldn’t be a mess—it would be beautiful, peaceful, and blissful. Wouldn’t it? If your life is full of chaos and unhappiness, maybe you don’t really know how to live it the right way. Maybe you don’t understand the art of living. Maybe you don’t know the truth. So why be in such a hurry to confidently teach your children something you’re unsure of yourself?

When the mop is dirty, stop mopping the floor!

Can you stop spreading your dirt into this world? That would be far more helpful than trying to clean it with a dirty mop.

Think about it.

Meditate on it.

Anytime you do something—whether you think you are helping people, saving the world, or making it a better place—think deeply about it.

The intention may be good, but the way you do it is even more important. Bad actions can erase all good intentions, leaving behind only harm.

Not many people understand this: even good intentions, if they arise from unconsciousness, can still cause harm. Someone will have to pay for it. Someone will have to bear the consequences of your unconsciousness. Someone will have to pay for your sins. That is the whole point of the story of Jesus. He had to pay for humanity’s sins—with his own life. To this day, Catholics still say sorry for his death, thank him for his sacrifice, and then continue committing the same sins. How nonsensical!

I once asked my mom, “I didn’t kill Jesus. I wasn’t even alive during that time—so how could I have done it? Why do I have to take responsibility as if I did, by saying sorry and pounding my chest every week for my whole life? Can’t I just take responsibility for my own sins in this life and live independently without feeling guilty for something I never did?”

Of course, my mom, as a well-educated Catholic, would never let me take responsibility for only my own sins. She insists that if I stop going to church, then she and my dad will have to go to hell because they are my parents—and I have committed the worst sin: leaving the church and turning my back on God!

But I haven’t turned my back. I haven’t left Jesus. I just stopped going to church weekly as a routine. That’s a completely different thing. But to my mom, stopping church attendance simply means I have committed the worst sin ever—and as my parents, they will have to pay for it in hell.

Jesus Would Cry—Not Christ, but Cry!

Jesus’ sacrifice makes me want to cry all the time—not because of the way he lived and died for human sin (as they say), but because of the beliefs the church has created after his death. Those beliefs have become such a burden for those who are still living.

Since the day I was born into a Catholic family, I already had an ancestral sin. As a baby, I was already carrying a sacred debt that I had to pay forever—such a sad story! And even worse, no matter how hard I tried to pay for this so-called sacred debt caused by some people named Adam and Eve “sinning against God,” my future children—if I have any—would still inherit that very debt the moment they were born. And their children, and so on, endlessly. An impossible-to-pay sacred debt—forever… speechless.

I wonder why my parents still question why I don’t want to have children. Maybe I should tell them.

Oh well, again, that’s another story. But you see what I mean: When you—as parents—believe you know the absolute truth, what is right and wrong, what should or should not be done, then congratulations. Please be happy and satisfied with it. But at least give your kids a chance to learn the truth for themselves, in their own way. Why are you in such a hurry to paint your own ideas, thoughts, and beliefs onto a poor child’s blank canvas?

But if you know that you don’t know the truth, then maybe you should give your kids more freedom and power to discover the world for themselves. You have nothing to lose when you give a child the right to paint their own painting. Think about it.

The same applies when people try to “do good things” to save the world. Very rarely do they truly understand what they’re doing. Very rarely.

I tried to save “the world” before. I failed—because, at that time, I didn’t know what was right or wrong. I didn’t have the consciousness or awareness to fully understand the things I was doing—even though they all sounded like good things: writing books, giving advice, and so on.

I failed because, back then, I didn’t have my own light, yet I still tried to light up the world. Nonsense! How foolish I was!

Don’t try to light up the world when your own candle has no flame. It’s meaningless.

Light up yourself first. When you have the light, then even if you do nothing, the light will spread by itself. Nothing can stop it!

Don’t try to clean the floor when your mop is dirty. Not only is it unhelpful—it’s foolish!

Wash yourself first. Clean yourself first. Be silent, be observant, be aware—that is the way!

Phi in Sweet Phi.losophy