Emptying the dishwasher.
Folding the laundry.
Making lunches.
Sweeping floors.
Cleaning stalls.
Mending fence.
Mundane, ordinary tasks. Things I think sometimes I'd rather not do, part and parcel of all that living my life entails. I resist, find a thousand reasons small and large to avoid them, but regardless of my procrastination, they remain. Waiting for me patiently, for my hands to lift, fold, hold, tie, accomplish.
With my hands tethered to the task at hand, my mind is free to wander. That's when I am reminded once more of the opportunity afforded me by these small chores. This is time when my mind is not being distracted by the parenting, the work, the internet, the television. This is time when I and my thoughts can drift quietly, considering, remembering, planning, absorbing.
I hold imaginary conversations. I carefully consider problems that need solving, and in the simple patterns of my chores, the bigger problems seem somehow easier to resolve than they did when I was embroiled in them.
I have this time, too, to be in my feelings, to let them come without resistance. They overhwelm me less, the motion and purpose of my tasks soothes me and comforts me.
And now, completing my chores, I am grateful for these small offerings. The chance to engage my body and to send my thoughts inward.
My tasks accomplished, I view the results with satisfaction. My world is a little straighter, something's fixed or completed and there is relief in the completion of the things that need doing. I send my thoughts back out into the world, a little clearer and in some odd way, as cleared of the clutter as my physical environment.
And the next time I'm procrastinating over doing my chores I somehow know I'll forget the value in them until I'm forced to tackle them once again. And once again I will find the meaning and the pattern of my life, and wonder once again why I was so unwilling to do so.
