Chop Wood, Carry Water: A Meditation on Cleaning House

Before enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry water.

Zen Proverb

Today I cleaned house. It’s something I have been lucky enough not to have to do in a long time, given the division of labor we usually live under in my household. It took me three hours to scrub two bathrooms, clean a kitchen, and dust and vaccum a family room, living room, hallway and bedroom. I got a pretty good workout and my body is sore.

I took the opportunity to meditate on this simple set of activities. One thing for sure about cleaning a house—you can tell you’re making progress, and you can look around once you’re done and revel in a certain satisfaction that your mission has for the most part been accomplished. Perhaps after all there exist a few things over which you have a modicum of control and there’s something comforting in that.

I noticed where my mind went while housecleaning today—a mild resentment at having to do these chores normally done by somebody else who is too sick to do them right now, and then the gentle reminder to myself of how many times these chores have been done on my behalf over many years with perhaps not enough real appreciation on my part. I noticed: the satisfaction in scrubbing the kitchen floor and repeatedly rinsing the dirty water down the drain; the incredible mess a corner poinsetta makes as it sheds some of its lower leaves onto the living room carpet; the pervasiveness of cat hair in unexpected corners. I tried to be present all through the process, and that made it seem like a new experience somehow, rather than drudgery. Have you ever tried noticing each and every sensation as you do something very routine? It can be quite a revelation.