There's something almost primal about the urge to throw open the windows, sweep away the cobwebs, and rearrange our spaces as the first hints of spring appear. I felt it myself this week, suddenly possessed by the desire to completely reorganize my office and beauty spaces—despite having been perfectly content with their arrangement since moving in last August.
This “feminine urge” to refresh our surroundings as seasons change isn't just a modern phenomenon; it's deeply rooted in our collective history. Long before influencers were showcasing their immaculate dry storage pantries on Instagram, spring cleaning was a practical necessity. In homes heated by coal and wood through the winter months, the arrival of warmer weather offered the first real opportunity to air out those musty spaces and remove the accumulated grime.
What's fascinating, though, is how this practical tradition has evolved into something that feels almost therapeutic. There's genuine satisfaction in sorting through accumulated clutter, rediscovering forgotten treasures, and creating order from chaos. The physical act of cleaning and organizing becomes a metaphor for mental clarity—a fresh start that aligns perfectly with spring's promises of renewal.
To many, New Year's Day is the traditional time to start projects and embark on resolutions, but the Spring Equinox is my personal signal to light a (metaphorical) fire under my butt and set things in motion. There's something about those first few days—when sunlight lingers noticeably longer and tiny green shoots start to peek out of the ground—that feels more authentically like a beginning than January ever could.
Setting intentions during winter's depths has never made sense to me; mine come alive along with the warming earth. Perhaps it's no coincidence that across cultures and throughout history, spring has been celebrated as the true beginning of the yearly cycle—from Nowruz in Iran to Holi in India. These ancient celebrations understood what my cleaning supply stash and I rediscover every March.
Even as a child, I would rearrange my bedroom furniture at least once a year, dragging dresser and nightstands across beige carpeting and imagining how to make my small space feel brand new. This instinct to transform our surroundings seems to be hardwired into some of us; it’s a creative expression that requires no artistic talent beyond seeing the potential for change.
My own (more recent) reorganization started innocently enough—just the thought to rearrange a few personal care items—but it quickly spiraled into a half-day project that left my workspace feeling transformed. (My office does double duty as my closet - #apartmentlife)
Nothing new was purchased; in fact, I condensed and decluttered without even intending to do so. But by simply reconsidering how I used my space and reorganizing what I already owned, everything suddenly felt refreshed. It also helps that my desk now faces a window and an open door rather than a wall.
In a world that moves at breakneck speed, where we're constantly bombarded with messages to buy more, upgrade faster, and chase the next trend…the urge to spring clean offers something different. It asks us to pause, evaluate what we already have, and find renewed appreciation in the familiar.
So if you've been feeling that familiar itch to reorganize a drawer, rearrange your bedroom, or finally tackle that closet you've been avoiding all winter, consider it your own connection to this timeless, female-coded tradition. There's something deeply satisfying about creating order in our physical spaces when the natural world around us is bursting with new beginnings.
What about you? Has the spring cleaning bug bitten yet? I'd love to hear about your own refresh projects in the comments!
I do seasonal refreshes. Swap out throw pillows etc. Washed windows last week and starting to tackle the big spring clean!
I’ve done the seasonal decor refresh, and now I’m feeling the urge to clean out my closet and dresser. The sunshine and lovely breezes have helped me wake up mentally and feel ready to live again.