Fine.

6 thoughts on “Fine.”

  1. I love the idea of housework as doing diligence. I find that now, in my time of non-demanding work, I resent the things I must do to keep the house and home going, the shopping, the chopping, the cleaning, then start again. It is good to think of it as the same as my dharma practice. Start again, now. Start again. Thanks.

    1. Yes! I find great frustration in the story that has been built around the householder as “less than.” The opposite side of the story being, of course, that the worker outside the home is “more than.” More competent, more valuable, more esteemed. Stepping out of my career, and stepping down on the ladder, in fact, back to more humble work, has been a wrestling match with myself, of epic proportion, you can imagine. Nonetheless, some fruits are coming from this labor–I have dissected the fallacy that the householder cannot achieve “enlightenment,” insofar as I am after it, as a sensation of peace, and an intentional diminishment of the power resent and remorse and suffering have over my everyday construct. My role models in this, of course, the matrons who have passed on, who made levity out of circumstance, and did not allow it to break their spark: Mary Alice, my great Aunt Sally, Sarah’s mom–Momo, there are so many! When I drift from my diligence as a moving meditation practice, it becomes resent, just as for you. I’ve come to know that feeling as the drift, the disconnect, the need to hurdle the everyday and grasp. So, surrender, for me, is–surrender “grander plans,” for this moment–something is coming. Keep that space clear. It is also, surrender to your humility, your smallness, and the specialness of your smallness. It’s this voice that is keeping me from launching into the disconnect again. I love work that is grave, and intense–the work of death, suffering, and all the beauty that is hidden in there, and showing people, “You can look here, and here, and here!” And then embracing that sometimes people can’t, and we sit in the dark, and hygge, I guess. Then embracing that in the end I may change nothing–people still die. Losses still happen. The work still mattered. I’m good at it. It takes me out of my family. I haven’t been able to crack that code. So, yes, starting again. Learning how to crawl again. ❤

      1. P.S. I just reread this and laughed about my role models, because I recall they are not always know for their “diligence,” but rather–I admire what they had, and for me, it’s not the method, it’s the outcome I’m after, and I know I’ve got to unshackle myself from my “business as usual” construct to get there. But that spark! Whew.

  2. Yeah. My mom wasn’t really known for household diligence. You’ve certainly heard about the refrigerator box sitting next to the dryer where all the dry clothes were tossed. You want a pair of socks? better go diving in the box. Hope you find your own underwear when the entire clan is wearing tighty whiteys. But when the spirit caught her, she stayed with it. I’m thinking rugs, spinning, tatting, pots, and so much more. And I’ll never forget the smile in those eyes…….

  3. PS – I hear it is possible you might make it to the march on the 21st. I’d love to be able to show you the new digs if you have time. We’re having a chili party here after.

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