In a monastery, there lived a monk who was quite
simple-minded and all the menial tasks were given to him, such as washing the
dishes, sweeping and scrubbing the floors and so on. He did not mind this, and
did all his chores lovingly while always pronouncing little prayers while doing
his work. “Dear God, as I wash this dish, please send one of Your angels to
wash my heart and make it pure” or “Dear God, as I clean this floor, please
send one of Your angels to help me, that every person who walks on this floor
may be touched by his presence.” For every chore, he had a prayer, and he
continued working in this way for a great many years. Legend says that one
morning as he woke up, he was enlightened, and from then on people came from
far and wide to listen to his wisdom.*
Last weekend I
was doing the annual spring cleanup in the garden at the farm, removing old
plant material and weeds to make room for the new vegetables to grow. Some
waste was easy to identify; the crunchy stalks of last year’s sunflowers
quickly came down and were added to the compost pile. Other things required more of a decision. Is
this a weed? A perennial? Some arugula
that self-seeded? I did notice that
after three years of gardening in this spot, I am becoming more confident in my
knowledge of the plants and the soil. The rich, dark humus that I have been
consciously cultivating makes pulling weeds much, much easier than the clay
soil that existed before. As I worked, I whispered a prayer of gratitude for
the improved soil, all that I have learned about this place, and the bounty of
this little plot of land that feeds my family and our LifeWays family.
Then I moved on
to the bee hive. The honey bees, who
survived the long, harsh and insanely cold winter, perished during the very
last cold snap. Carefully and with
reverence, I cleaned out all the dead bees, the honey-filled combs and the
oldest beeswax destined to become candles. As I worked, I thought about the
plight of the honeybee (I heard that 70% of the bees in Wisconsin didn’t make
it through this past winter). Cleaning out the hive was a somber experience,
but there was also a feeling of making room for something new to happen
there...the possibility of life.
There is
something about the springtime that invites us to transform. We feel compelled
to clean out the old and make room for new growth, new life. I often wonder why
we bother to make New Year’s resolutions that are destined to fail during the
coldest time of the year when all we can seem to muster is the will to survive
the long, dark winter. Why not make Spring resolutions when we feel exhilarated
by the budding trees and the warmer days that fill us with energy and
hopefulness? Springtime is naturally the time to examine what is holding us
back, so we can shed it and make room for new ideas, new growth, new life.
Is there
something in your life that is holding you back? In your family’s life? Maybe a
change is needed. Perhaps you can do some transformation of your own. All it
takes is a little spring cleaning.
* Monk story from Linda Thomas, "Chaos in Everyday
Life; About Cleaning and Caring”, published in Kindling, 2004. Available on the Online Waldorf Library. Linda
Thomas has a new book out that lots of people are excited about: Why Cleaning has Meaning: Bringing Wellbeing
Home. I hope to read it soon.
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