In the midst of a week of realizing, once again, just how much is out of my control, I tried to keep my hands busy. If my hands were busy, maybe I would focus on the task at hand instead of my heart hurting or the troubles of my friends and family.
But it was worth a try.
It was funny what brought me the greatest comfort. It wasn’t the nap. (I know, I was shocked too.) It wasn’t bingeing on Netflix or picking up a book.
It was tackling Mount Washmore that had collected on Cap’s couch. With all the comings and goings of the past few days, clothes got clean but not folded or put away.
It was time. As I matched socks and sorted out each child’s clothes in stacks by pants, shirts, and unmentionables, I found peace. In the quiet with the melee of the house in the background (because it is rarely ever completely quiet around here), I folded and just “was.” No thought train running through my brain, no emotional rumination, just quietly picking up one article of clothing, folding it, deciding where to put it, and then moving on to the next piece.
One piece at a time. Slowly the pile went away.
My Mama used to say loading the dishwasher for her was like playing Tetris. Trying to figure out how to place each dish in just the right spot to fit all of the dirty dishes in there.
Making order in the chaos.
That’s what I did yesterday. I can’t fix all the things that are rolling in around me, but that pile of laundry? Folded, sorted, and put away. Done.
That I could do. That I could control.
And it felt good.
Sometimes it’s the simple things to help us swing back toward “balance.” And balance is what I long for.
May you all have a load of laundry to fold just when you need some peace the most.
Love to all.