"Did You Make Your Bed Today?"

"Did you make your bed today?"

This was the very question my mother asked me the other day as I chatted with her on the phone about coming over to watch the kids for me while I raked leaves. 

"Huh?" I replied.  I hadn't heard that question from her since I was a teenager living at her house, so I was a bit puzzled. 

"Did you make your bed?  You know, in your efforts to become more mindful?  Didn't you read the article you posted on your blog?  I thought that's why you were inspired to rake leaves."

I had read it, but I didn't remember any part about making your bed or raking leaves. 

As it turns out, my mom was referring to another article written by the same writer that had been referenced in the article I read.  This one spoke of a mindful home, and I devoured it as I had the first.  In all its simplicity, it told how taking the time to enjoy and reflect in the act of taking care of one's home can lead to mindfulness, "to improve our lives with special contemplative consideration, a method for making saner choices and assuring better outcomes". 

I looked outside at the thick carpet of leaves spread over our lawn and decided it was going to take more time than I had anticipated, so I called my mother-in-law over for some early help.  While she stayed inside with the kids, I tried my best to immerse myself in the act of raking leaves.  At first the task itself seemed daunting; the leaves were wet and sticky with rain, and they covered almost our whole side-yard and a good majority of our driveway.  But as I worked I tried to keep a positive outlook on things and noticed that things weren't as bleak as they initially appeared.  Because the leaves were damp, they didn't fly about when the wind blew - and it did - and once I got them down to the compost pile at the opposite end of our property they easily slid out of the wheelbarrow like a giant leaf turd, no shaking or fancy shimmying necessary.  And the leaves themselves were gorgeous; a wonderful cacophony of color turned over with every pull of the rake. 

Yes, there were times during the raking that I lost my mindfulness, that I allowed the negative and whiny to creep in.  And as they crept in, the task got harder and more mistakes were made; leaves missed the wheelbarrow and made another pile for me to take care of, I hit one of the many potholes in our backyard and sent a wheelbarrow punch directly to my breadbasket, and my breathing became more labored.  As soon as I cleared my head and focused on the leaves and the act of just raking, the task became easier and more freeing.

It took me an hour and ten minutes to finish, but by the end I felt rejuvenated.  No, I had not captured all the leaves; the wind was blowing new leaves off the trees every moment that passed.  But the pile was gone and I was satisfied with my efforts.  And I was bolstered by my new try at mindfulness, ready to conquer the giant pile of clothes in our hamper and the dirty dishes in and around the sink.  Is it easy, this effort of being in the moment and enjoying a particular task?  Not at first, and not always for a person whose mind tends to go a mile a minute.  But I have found that it's worth the effort, making each moment count and reveling in the fact that I have these things in my life to do. 

And now, on to the day.  I hope yours is a great one!