my secret meditation

Monday morning.

Mondays are my laundry days. There is something about sorting, washing, drying, folding and resorting that makes for a good start to the week. With four boys at home in the summer, I get lots of help--which does not necessarily mean it gets done faster! The important thing is that they know how to do these things. That they learn, at least eventually, about the satisfaction of finishing a job, even if it will simply be undone within a week.

Although I frequently have the boys do most of the folding these days, I do find it meditative and quite fulfilling. Making each shirt the same size, folding the towels to fit on the shelf, feeling the warmth and softness of freshly laundered fabric--all these things remind me of what is right, good and important in life: our children, our home, our life. Trying to figure out what belongs to whom afterwards can be especially frustrating, but again, sorting into piles is reflective and contemplative. Just the way to start the week.

Of course, the job can be frustrating at times. It baffles me when there is a week that inexplicably produces twice the dirty clothes as the week before. Then there are the mornings when I could use a gas mask to sort everything into the proper baskets. And those times when something that is supposed to hang dry is found, mis-shappen and disheveled, in the dryer. It would be nice to have the washer and dryer inside our house--better yet, upstairs! But all in all, my self-chosen Monday morning chore is still the most preferable one to start the week.

Monday morning: my Momma morning. My meditation/thinking/reflection time.

More than anything, when it comes to chores, inside or outside, I strive to find the thinking time. The times when I let the weeds go or skip the dusting are usually when I don't want to think about something; when I am avoiding my inner voice. The boys would say that's why I turn the music up loud when I clean, but even when the music is loud, I can hear myself think. Sometimes I just don't want to. From time to time, I attack some room or other and clean it top to bottom without allowing anyone else to help--and those are the times when I am attacking myself--trying to silence my inner voice. I never get far. Working together with my inner self is so much more successful and satisfying.

Time to find myself in some fabric, water, agitation and hot air. What a beautiful way to spend a Monday.