I admit I'm a bit of a neat freak. If I come into contact with something that might have germs on it, I'll wash my hands. Even the smallest stain on a shirt or pants drives me crazy. (So you'd think I'd wash my car more often.)
Today reminded me how much fun it is to be dirty. I've had several Great Dirty Moments in my lifetime, mostly as a child.
There was the time when, as a 4- or 5-year-old, I kept getting this streak of dirt on my face, in the same spot, every single day for like a week.
In college, I was working on a grounds maintenance crew, and we had to dig a trench during a monsoon. I took an odd pleasure in that.
My high school buddies and I went mud-hogging on several occasions, either in their trucks or on four-wheelers. There are few things more beautiful than a pickup coated in mud. But getting one unstuck ain't much fun.
The all-time dirty moment came in high school, when my youth group played a game of mud football. I got spectacularly filthy.
Earthiness can be a virtue. It reminds us where we came from, for one. It also keeps us grounded, pardon the pun. I mean, how many ditch-diggers and miners have big egos? Getting dirty is often humbling; just watch Mike Rowe's "Dirty Jobs" show. Scraping out the inside of a concrete mixer or cleaning up toxic bird poop will remind a man of where he stands (and to watch his step).
I'm not going to give up my cushy writing job, mind you, but I need to make a point to get dirty more often. It cleanses the soul.
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