Be Here Now

I must have run up and down the stairs ten times tonight, searching for inspiration. I thought if I could find just the right quote, the words for my essay would flow. I consulted Anne Lamott and Natalie Goldberg, Thich Nhat Hanh and Ram Dass. I flipped through a book on journal writing and one on dreams, then remembered a book on Zen downstairs, then remembered a book of quotations upstairs, then stopped to pet the cat and call my mother.

Then I found the above quote, which reads in its entirety:

While washing the dishes, one should only be washing the dishes, which means that while washing the dishes one should be completely aware of the fact that one is washing the dishes. . . The fact that I am standing there and washing these bowls is a wondrous reality. I'm being completely myself, following my breath, conscious of my presence, and conscious of my thoughts and actions. There's no way I can be tossed around mindlessly like a bottle slapped here and there on the waves.

That's exactly what I was--a "bottle slapped here and there on the waves." I was jumping from one thought to the next, allowing myself to be distracted by the smallest thing, bouncing off the walls like a moth in a lampshade. I started thinking about what this philosophy really means--be here now. This was also the theme of my yoga lesson this week, and I facetiously dealt with it in my journal entry by saying, "Boy, who wants to be here now," referring to the weather and the fact that the temperature is in the single digits here.

But if I apply the principle--be here now--I find that it helps me survive the cold. While I am walking I am just walking--not thinking of what I have to do tomorrow or next week, and slipping on the ice because I'm not concentrating--but simply putting one foot in front of the other. I am conscious of my breath--in and out--rather than gasping freezing air through my mouth to shock the back of my throat. And while I am writing, I am just writing, not petting the cat or talking to my mother, just writing.

It's very difficult to keep the mind quiet. I've found it helps to have pads of paper and pens near the places where I normally sit, and next to my bed, so that when my brain is whizzing and won't slow down and I have an idea or thought that won't leave me alone, I can write it down and forget about it.

Sometimes when we're doing a task that seems "mindless," it seems a perfect opportunity to let our minds wander, to daydream, to go back over that old argument or injury and think of what we really should have said. I've had some good, creative ideas at times like that. But sometimes it's best to just wash the dishes.