Take It With You

A busy week in a small apartment can leave quite a big mess. When you leave the house at 8am and get home after 10pm, it’s hard to have any desire to wash the dishes or do the laundry… and when you have a whole week of that schedule, inevitably both pile up. It can feel a bit overwhelming when you decide to dive in and do the “big clean” – when you stop searching for the many ways to procrastinate and just get started.

But I find that when I’m done (which is always sooner than I expect) and I sit in my favorite chair, drinking in the warmth of the candles and a glass of Shiraz… there is such a sense of peace that comes over me. The pride of accomplishment mixed with the calm of a clean house.

I like to take that moment and indulge in it. No music, no television, no books or magazines. Just a time of quiet reflection when the only sounds are a few ticking clocks, the wind chime outside in the breeze, and the light snore of our napping cat.

It’s as if in that brief moment, the chaos of life pauses – giving me a respite in which to take a breath and sit back and enjoy this picture of everything in its place, before the chaos sweeps back in, (which is also always sooner than I expect).

Another place that I am able to feel this brief respite, this sense of time suspended, is in a place of worship. To walk off the busy streets of New York City into a reverent and quiet and calm environment – it immediately shocks your system. You cannot do anything but catch your breath and still your mind. The light is filtered differently; the smell is one of incense or old, polished wood; the echo of each step is heard; and you cannot help but adjust. Your eyes take a moment to open up; your nose is awakened by unfamiliar scents; your gait is measured, slower.

Sometimes I am there for ten minutes, sometimes two hours, and regardless of how long I’ve spent inside this place of reverence, it is again a shock to my system when I step back out into the busy world. The sunlight is harsh; the comforting aromas gone; and I am swept up into the heave of New York City Walking (or else risk being scoffed at for daring to enjoy a leisurely pace).

The trick – and I’m only beginning to understand the concept of this noble idea – is to find some way to take it with you: the sense of calm into the busy world, the wave of peace into the crisis-driven office, the gentle reminder of that moment in the clean house.

And it is not an easy trick. In fact, it shouldn’t even be called a trick at all – a trick implies some sort of “slight-of-hand” or magic in place of real work. The reality is: it’s a challenge. It is a hard thing to carry that inner peace with you throughout the day. Let’s not fool ourselves - it’s hard to carry it past noon!

But if today you can make it until noon and tomorrow you make it to 12:15 – there is the proof that it is not unattainable. It is in the small, conscious choices we make at each moment of every day. When we choose to be positive or to be negative; when we choose to smile at the person sitting next to us on the subway or to immediately bury into our newspaper; even when we choose to wash each dish as soon as we’re finished eating so they don’t even have a chance to pile up.

However you get to that place of serenity: yoga, worship, meditation, running… it is worth it to go there. It is worth the ten minutes or two hours or however long – to indulge in that moment.

And it is worth it to meet that daily challenge – to take it with you.