no surprise: i am a person who plans, who believes deeply in lists, in rituals, and in process.
hauling the mini off to the shop was not part of the pre-thanksgiving checklist, especially not the week after buying four new tires.
man plans; god laughs. best make your plans in such a way that you can laugh along.
while it’s easy to hear god’s laughter in every plan we make, it’s also true that provided you never forget it’s an illusion, the illusion of control is better than nothing at all. that’s one reason i’ve starting naming and sharing these life lessons.
like. . .
lesson number 55. ‘triple a’ membership is money well spent.
aaa doesn’t prevent the tire from going flat. it means that when it does, i don’t have to think about what to do. and there’s the nub (or the rub, or the nut). . .
ritual and process and rules and lessons will not lift you above the quotidian or save you from the tyranny of the picayune. but they may allow you to fully embrace the daily and find joy in the ordinary. they can give us the balance needed to lean into the curveball. the best lessons help us move beyond fear and elevate habit into something meaningful. the clean house lesson is a great example.
lesson number 56. don’t go away for even one night without leaving an impeccably clean house.
and i mean spotless: dishwasher empty, laundry done, fresh sheets on the bed, and a new liner in the garbage can. the weekend before thanksgiving, as i’m running four loads of laundry and scrubbing the produce drawer, this can seem maniacal. next saturday, though, when we return to spotless, coming home will be a tiny moment to savor.
the trick is in the savoring. without that flash of awareness, that small delight, the ritual would be merely routine. habits are an existential necessity, all that separates us from the vast and unknowable chaos. i find more than comfort in folding the tea towels; i connect to a chain of actions i have taken and will take again. i enter a meditative state: hands busy with repetitive action, brain free from relentless thought. i trick myself into thinking that the house will not burn down while we’re away, because no oily rags means no spontaneous combustion. now, i know the rags were never oily. i know it’s all. . .
pure illusion.
try getting through an hour (much less a day or a lifetime) without an arsenal of illusions. whether you call them habits or lessons, rituals or process, they are the building blocks of character. mine are based in my real experience. i strive to hold them lightly, to employ them with a high degree of self-awareness and delight, and to use them as gateways to deeper potential.
so, before i leave for north carolina tomorrow, the house will be spotless and my ‘triple a’ card will be in my wallet. i’ll look over (and under) the car before i pull out of the driveway, then stop on the way out of town to pick up mom’s favorite caramel layer cake. just like last thanksgiving and the one before that. this way, when the tire goes flat or the house burns down, i won’t have to second-guess what i did or did not do. i’ll focus instead on now, wherever i find it.
and for that, i am thankful.
p.s. few are brighter and more articulate than will self. he writes about the power of habit here.
p.p.s.
