Freshen Up!

 I ascribe to the proverb waste not, want not, with fingers crossed that I'll always have what is needed. I save leftovers and try hard to eat them. I feel responsible for near-abandoned vegetables; I either make soup or compost. Occasionally, my house suffers an infestation of moths. Chagrinned by holes in clothes and rugs, I happily dive into the lengthy process of assessing damage and weeding out my closet. Additionally, because I like to make things last, not only do I want to mend, I enjoy getting stains from clothing. It always takes a while for me to get around to the luxury of making soup or hunkering down to my pile of battered clothing, but it's always satisfying when I do.

Soup recipes abound on the internet, and there's plenty of advice about moth removal or tackling stains on clothing.  Instead, I want to talk about how these moth holes, loose seams, and stains remind me of skewed mindsets I fall prey to that need fixing. Perceptions of my life go askew; mixed feelings and sloppy thinking drive me into a funk. Like withered vegetables or stitches that need tightening, I lose sight of ideals that once seemed crystal clear. How is it that I end up so out of whack?

For starters, I'm a person, that's why. A person controlled by that most desirous of organs that the loveable Scarecrow immortalized in The Wizard of Oz - the brain. That complex mass of grey matter which, according to experts, controls thought, memory, emotion, touch, motor skills, vision, breathing, temperature, hunger, and - whew - every precise process that regulates our body - most notably, how we respond to threats whether real or perceived. Threats like my poor, wrinkly, wasted heirloom tomatoes, my wine-splattered shirt, the holes in my favorite pants! Most significantly, I have been so busy running around with work, errands, or scrolling the internet that I can't find the time for repair.

All of the above are micro-threats to my well-being. More seriously alarming are the pressures of work, the emotional challenges of relationships, financial concerns, and other life demands. Trying to balance them triggers our nervous systems into the high-alert survival mode of fight or flight, which renders us good for nothing. Plus, we tend to get stuck there. At least I do. I worry more. I'm snippy. I obsess over this or that, him or her, and them. I trip over myself and engage in tripping others. 

What's exciting is that amid the current mainstream Mindfulness movement, contemplative neuroscientists can show through technology how short, intentional pauses alter the brain in ways that reduce reactivity and allow us to respond more calmly to our stressful lives. Most of us know that intentions to clean up our act usually don't cut it. Good intentions, like weeds, line the road to hell. We need practices to optimize our chances of altering our brains and calming down. Those who regularly meditate know the neurological, psychological, and spiritual benefits that put us on a more even keel and more in touch with better parts of ourselves. 

Even if we don't engage in formal meditational practices, countless ordinary tasks provide opportunities to interrupt fear-based, fight-flight-freeze cycles. I'm reminded of Thich Nhat Hahn's reflection on washing dishes. To his mind, the idea that doing dishes is unpleasant can only occur when you aren't doing them. That's how it is with my soup-making or mending and destaining activities. I get into a slowed-down, single-focused mode of involvement that calms me down and gets me recentered.

I look forward to these repair days as intentional pauses from the nonstop busyness of my daily routines. In the end, I've restored not only my clothing but myself as well. I circle back to a deep-down state of transformative knowing. The quiet pause relaxes me; I feel fresh, am more attuned to myself and others, and enjoy the satisfaction of having made something and someone new.

Freshened up!