I like what Karen Maezen Miller says about work in her memoir, Hand Wash Cold: Care Instructions for an Ordinary Life.
“Accord yourself with what needs to be done—the very thing that appears before you. What appears before you is not only the most important thing; it is the only thing, all other things existing in your imagination, for the time being.”
Miller is both a suburban mom and a Zen Buddhist priest, a combination of roles that seems particularly apt to me. When she talks about the work in front of her, she often means the same work that confronts me: piles of laundry and a kitchen to clean. Work that an unenlightened being on a bad day might consider drudgery.
Yet I know enough to recognize the wisdom in her teaching. I know that the dread I feel when the insurance company demands documentation is far worse than the effort of retrieving those papers from the files. I know that the frustration of cluttered counters and closets is far more painful than actually clearing them.
The problem is that I have better things to do with my time, or at least I think I do. I have more creative pursuits to follow, more important work to accomplish. I have a more fulfilling life to live than the messy one in front of me with all of its exasperating details.
On the other hand, sometimes the work in front of me is more complicated. That work may be the next step to take toward a larger goal. Often the problem that arises then is that I don’t know how to do it. Which means the additional task of learning to take on something I haven’t done before. There’s no ease with that, no sense of mastery. It would be so much more comfortable to just do what I’m good at.
I can avoid the big scary projects for a while, immersing myself in other things. But no one moves forward that way. And eventually all other endeavors lose their flavor if I’m not doing the work that calls to me. At the same time, it’s hard to do that higher level work when I’m tripping over the shoes and magazines piled on the floor.
So the work in front of me may be a sink full of dishes, or it may be the next step in making a dream come true. Both matter. Sometimes I experience a day in which each kind of work is a welcome respite from the other, a day in which I can gladly take on what’s in front of me without feeling I should be doing something different. When I can bring that kind of presence to my working, I’m released from the draining effects of second-guessing and doubt. What I’m doing is the right thing, and it’s all that matters.
As Miller says, “At the moment when I’m in the muck, at the moment when I’m doing anything, it is my life, it is all of time, and it is all of me.”
What work is in front of you?
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I love this book! I’ve just recently gone through it, myself. Yes, always the juggling act… keeping up with the necessary mundane of life, keeping food on the table, AND following our creative passions. Something I am far from mastering, but Hand Wash Cold had helped me chill out about getting so frustrated over the mundane. I’m learning to have joy in it. And I’m learning to stop analyzing whether or not I *should* do it NOW, or wait until LATER. If it needs to be done, it’s time to do it.
Susan, I loved this post. It speaks to me because I find myself using the work in front of me to avoid taking on the “big scary projects.” When my kids were younger, caring for them and supporting their activities provided all the work I could manage. That was fine- I was doing my work. Now that they are older and I am less needed, at least in terms of my time commitment, my “big scary project” is …? My future path? So I like the thought of clearing the “shoes and magazines” and then tackling the rest. You’re right, both matter!
Over and over events teach me that life is what happens despite as well as because of what we had planned. Then I must do the work in front of me with an open heart, give myself to it for the moment, and also remember to keep room for dreams. My parents recognized my love of poetry early on and bought a copy of The Best Loved Poems of the American People. I devoured the book and memorized many of the poems — most of which sound platitudinous to our contemporary ears. But lines like these from Louise Driscoll come back to me: “In your heart, keep one still, secret spot where dreams may go and sheltered so may thrive and grow.” Yep. That’s what I got to do when things would keep my dreams at bay — because life is BOTH what happens and what we work toward.
Source : Within your heart, keep one still, secret spot where dreams may go. Louise Driscoll | Quotes | Dictionary of Quotes – quotes
Angela, Regi, and Leatha– thank you all for offering your perspective on this challenge. I found Hand Wash Cold to be helpful with not stressing about the mundane, too, Angela. It’s such wise and practical advice. Funny how sometimes it’s soothing to just go ahead and do the work. And Regi I know exactly what you mean about that huge leap from making peace with how much of yourself your kids need, how much is placed in front of you…just in time for them to move on and need something entirely different! So here we go, learning to do something new again. Leatha, I like the way you describe balancing the two kinds of work in front of us as both being open and keeping room for our dreams. That’s it, exactly. Sheltering and fostering our dreams in the midst of all we’re given to do is so important.