Ordinary Joy

One day back in late June while browsing in the cleaning supplies aisle in a local store, I found a pair of gloves made from fuzzy, dust-cloth fabric and bought them. Because of habit and illness, I opened them and first used them just last week: suddenly, an unexpected boon. The experience of cleaning shifted from an effortful, practiced process to an experience of enjoying my ordinary stuff.

Dusting books and miscellaney on the shelves turned to a process of stroking all these collected things that I use and/or consider amusing, charming, or beautiful. It was easier to reach out and run a finger or full hand over window shelves and baseboards, lamp shades and tables, when no attention was diverted from the item being touched, no attention was given to the process of simultaneously holding dust cloth and also holding the item being cleaned. Ah, the dirt I collected. And it was so simple.

My belly tickled with glee as I noticed that I was having fun handling, touching, my collected household stuff. The stuff that routinely supports my life; the stuff that, therefore, demands its reciprocal support in the guise of maintenance.

I was pleased, felt blessed, so happy to find myself experiencing the joy of being through the process of using my new dusting gloves. I laugh aloud with the odd, silly, ordinary pleasure of it.

My friend who intentionally and deeply notices the world writes of her work-a-day life as it exists within her total life, work hours too often filled with "created drama and false urgency; the mystical and absurd, galloping apace side by side."

There's nothing wrong with our games and movies and news media, our surface-thought Twitter and Facebook and text messages. Unless they become our primary focus?

Is it possible that our personal desires for the excitement, the quick fix technology offers, has led us to a political "created drama and false urgency" that overwhelms ordinary good sense? Perhaps by seeking out drama and urgency, holding it high and giving it full attention, we have the politics that we as a society have asked for? Right, left, middle, we all seek drama?

What can I do? I voted; another candidate won the congressional seat that also represents me; I write to my congressman but he plays to and votes for his dramatically extreme base (though the election was very close). I am no wealthy donor. I have lost my power in the national public arena.

What can I do? I believe I will practice Lao-Tzu's "peace in the heart." I will continue to return to my quiet place, to recognize the ordinary joy and pleasure of using my dusting gloves.