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The Simple Joy of Housekeeping
Words by Alicia Woodward
There was a time in my life when I got excited to take a personal day from work just to catch-up on housekeeping. Full-time jobs and kids’ busy schedules meant there were never enough hours in the day to keep up with cleaning, cooking, laundry, and yard work. Now that I’m a retired empty-nester, I have plenty of time for routine chores which have always offered a comforting, grounding rhythm to my life.
As a college student, I couldn’t settle in for a serious study session until my dorm room or apartment was spick-and-span. I wasn’t just procrastinating. Getting my environment in order was part of my study ritual. Doing basic household chores can help us practice the focus required for other areas of life.
In a wonderful little book called A Monk’s Guide to a Clean House and Mind, a Shin-Buddhist monk shares how cleaning methods employed in Zen temples can be used “as a way to cultivate the mind.” It’s a similar lesson to the one we learned from the karate kid’s Mr. Miyagi when he instructed, “Wax on. Wax off.”
After years of unavoidable multi-tasking, I enjoy giving my full attention to a specific task such as cleaning a window, ironing a shirt, or filling the birdbath. It’s during that time when I often come up with my best ideas.
Especially as we get older, routine chores can give structure and meaning to our days. My husband and I both love creating a happy, welcoming home for each other, as well as for friends and family.
Since retiring, my husband has taken over the cooking. He plans the menus, shops for the best ingredients, and takes his time in the kitchen to lovingly prepare delicious and healthy meals. My domain is still cleaning and laundry. I have a daily schedule that helps me accomplish all of my housekeeping within the week.
We both have our own interests and hobbies, but cheerfully doing our daily chores is part of our love language, and they get us up and going when motivation is running a little low. During the pandemic, when nothing seems normal, routine chores add some consistency to our days.
Going about my housework, I can’t help but be filled with gratitude. There’s so much for which to be thankful. Floors to sweep. Clothes to launder. Dishes to wash. Pillows to fluff. Leaves to rake.
As we get older, we naturally have more time to take care of our homes and, I’ve found, more appreciation for each and every day of our life. I recall folding my children’s tiny clothes with only a vague understanding of how quickly they would outgrow them. I held the soft cotton onesies to my nose and inhaled their sweet smell, pausing for just a moment before rushing off to do something more pressing.
These days, there isn’t so much tugging for my attention. As I dust the piano, prune the geraniums, and hang up my husband’s shirts, I’m intensely aware of the simple pleasure it brings me.
Our lives go through dramatic transitions, but one thing that never changes is the necessity of household chores. There were times when I desperately needed a maid or a fairy godmother to keep it all together. At this stage in my life, I’m glad for the time and perspective to view housekeeping as something that brings me focus, meaning, gratitude and, yes, even joy.
Changes in the Rearview
Words by Joshua Fields Millburn
I spoke with a man in dire straits recently. This man, let’s call him John, laid before me many of his problems: A crumbling marriage. Massive debt. Low income. An unhealthy lifestyle. John was unhappy, depressed, and frustrated with where he was in life, so he asked me for my advice: he wanted to know how I had changed so many things in such a short period of time.
I explained to John that I didn’t have any advice for him. I told him he knew his situation better than I ever could, and he likely knew what to do. Then I asked what advice he’d give himself if he were in my shoes.
John spent the next fifteen minutes explaining, detail after detail, exactly what he would say to himself to fix his marriage, get out of debt, increase his income, and regain control of his health.
I smiled and said, “All that sounds like great advice! Too bad our own advice is the hardest pill to swallow.”
But, of course, he didn’t like his own advice because it was too gradual. Plus, his advice wasn’t easy: he had recommended only small, incremental changes that wouldn’t likely make a huge difference right away.
Instead, he wanted the magic pill—something that would radically change his life immediately. He wanted instant gratification, but his advice seemed so basic—so intuitive—that it couldn’t be what I did to change my life. And I obviously had the short cut with this whole minimalism thing, and he wanted my secret.
I told John that while I had no advice for him, I could tell him how I changed my life, and he could see whether any of those changes were applicable to his situation, and if they were, he could use my life as recipe, tweezing out the relevant ingredients to apply them to his own recipe for living. Then, for the next fifteen minutes, I simply echoed his advice back to him, changing a few details to make them fit my life.
You see, I didn’t have a magic strategy, either. It took me two long years to change my life—one small change at a time.
Two years ago, I was also unhappy, in debt, out of shape, and stuck.
It took me two years to pay off most of my debt and establish a minimalist budget. I focused on paying off one creditor at a time. I allocated every extra dollar to pay off my car. I sold my house and moved into an apartment. I got rid of any superfluous bills like cable TV Internet, and satalite radio.
It took me two years to get into the best shape of my life, exercising every day and completely changing my diet over time.
It took me two years to give less meaning to my physical possessions, focusing instead on important relationships, personal growth, and contribution.
It took me two years to get away from Corporate America and pursue my passions.
None of it happened over night. And it certainly wasn’t easy, but a lot can change in a year or two. I changed my life by focusing on small changes each day. I focused on those small changes one at a time, not on everything I wanted to change. And then, one day, I looked in the rearview mirror and everything was different.
A Little More of Less
A few other articles we think you might enjoy…
→ A Key to Healing Our Divide by Leo Babauta
→ 7 Ways to Make Conversations Meaningful Using Minimalism by The Minimalists
→ 5 Principles for Minimal Design by Carl MH Barenbrug
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