I’ve always hated doing house work. When I was a lazy teenager I took my chores as an annoying hassle, an unwelcome interruption to my world of video clips and magazines.
In my feminist dominated 20’s I took house work to be a the ultimate subterfuge for women and shunned it completely. I was going to be a working woman and so I refused to iron, sweep and clean. I could hire someone else to do that for me.
Up until my early 30’s I did house work begrudgingly with my teeth clinched, huffing and puffing away as quickly as I possibly could. I hated seeing dirty things and so discovered the neat freak gene from my mother had finally kicked into working order. I still found housekeeping terribly futile, all that effort would last for so little, hell everything will be dirty and unkept tomorrow anyway!!
Over the past few years while helping to care for my mother in law a strange transformation has come about. Cleaning someone else’s house has become a part of my routine. I daily dust, sweep and clean my mostly bed ridden mother in laws house. And the strange thing is that I don’t mind.
I feel like I am doing something good, honorable and humble. It is meditative, when I clean I reflect on the virtues of doing something simple with my own hands and it makes me feel modest.
The repetitive nature of cleaning is a fundamental action which is done by most people all around the world and it makes me feel connected to others who carry out this daily ritual. It’s quite Zen really. An every day piece of life that reminds us to be reserved and pious in our lives.
Don’t get me wrong I still hate ironing and the rest but I have discovered this new spiritual aspect of house work which I was never aware of.
So happy meditative housework to all and to finding the path of enlightenment through the everyday!
Talking in tongues