How — and why– to savor the tedious (laundry pile included)
How to make each moment count — this has been the overarching focus of my columns so far this year.
Maybe it’s because of COVID-19, but it has been abundantly clear to me lately that life is short, and nothing is guaranteed. So, I want to live with that in mind.
I want to be as present as I can.
But as I’ve been saying in recent weeks, presence can be elusive. We’re programmed to be constantly in our heads: revisiting the past, anticipating the future, narrating, analyzing, dwelling — you name it.
Just knowing that we have this uncanny ability to mentally talk ourselves out of fully participating in our lives is helpful. It’s the starting point for being less caught up in our thoughts.
Beyond that, connecting with sensation in our bodies can be a practical anchor into the moment. And cultivating a spirit of acceptance toward whatever life shows us — the good, the bad and the ugly — is another hallmark of presence.
This week, I’d like to share an exercise that can, in some ways, bring this all together.
As usual, this is also a work in progress for me. I’m hoping we can inspire each other.
It starts by making a list. (If you’re like me, you may think “I don’t feel like doing this” or “I’ll just do it in my head,” but I promise, it will only take a few minutes and it will work better if you actually write.)
Jot down a bunch of things you do every day that you find no fun. Anything you loathe doesn’t belong here (those things are best accepted or taken off your plate entirely). This list is for the mundane stuff. Things that are a plain pain in the butt. Boring. Tedious. Maybe stressful.
My list contains things like getting two toddlers ready in the morning, making my bed, unloading the dishwasher, prepping food, picking up toys, putting away laundry, waiting to see doctors, thinking of what to have for dinner … I could go on and on. I’ll sheepishly admit that a lot of what I do every day turned up on my list.
But here’s where the practice comes in. The items on our lists are vehicles for presence. Now that we know they’re tasks where we’ll readily check out, we can use them to consciously check in.
That is, do this stuff with the attributes of presence I described above: a remove from mental dialogue, an air of acceptance and a grounding in our bodies.
This can feel forced at first. Trust me, I know.
Just the other day, waiting in a doctor’s office with my daughter, my impatience was at a 10 and I was NOT in the mood. I angrily tapped my foot, repeatedly checked the time and called my husband a few times to whine, all while very consciously ignoring this exercise.
But, when I actually do what I’m suggesting here, there’s not only more peacefulness in my actions, there’s also, subtly but undeniably, more joy.
It’s like I’m not just going through the motions. I’m there, in my flesh, doing what can start to feel like the blessed little chores that come with the privilege of being alive.
That can sound like a tall order for something like putting away laundry, but hey, I bet there can even be something sweet in our sock drawers. Let’s not miss out.