Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Zen and Zen Again
I've often mentioned my sister Nancy, the catalyst behind my becoming a PTFP (part-time Fla. person), and her natural penchant for gardening. As my followers know, gardening to me is more like Chinese water torture than the cathartic, mind-freeing experience that Nancy enjoys. Having a somewhat off-beat sense of humor, I tend to tease Nancy about the "Zen" involved in various activities. Not that I question her ability to achieve Nirvana while up to her elbows in dirt. Quite to the contrary, I sometimes envy her being able to totally lose herself in an activity that reduces stress levels and leaves a calmer mind to continue on with the day-to-day situations we all encounter.
Today dawned a rainy, chilly day in Fla (our common reference to Florida). Temps in the fifties and a steady drizzle set the mood. Whatever thoughts I might have had for visiting parents or shopping or any other outdoor activity quickly vanished as I looked out the window at the damp gray day. After all, part of the lure of being in Fla is not having to do anything if I don't feel like it.
Nancy called earlier today and we discussed our "plans" for the day. We both agreed that there was no necessity to venture out into the damp, cold world. As we talked, Nancy revealed that today she was going to spend the day ironing. Chuckling, I said "Sure you are. Sounds like a thrill a minute to me.". I tend to iron only whatever I'm going to wear on the morning I'm going to wear it. Having spent many an hour ironing as a teenager, permanent press has become one of my best friends. Besides, even if you iron on a regular basis (there is therapy for that compulsion), by the time your clothes hang in the closet for a while, they need at least a touch-up before you put them on...at least in my closet they do.
So as Nancy assured me that she actually enjoyed ironing, I couldn't resist the temptation to make a laughing reference to the Zen of ironing. I can see it all now.....a white cotton shirt, the steam from the iron rising in patterns above the ironing board, that thrill of conquering the wrinkled sleeve...... and yes, losing oneself in the perfect crease.
Once more I admit to not possessing the Zen gene.....gardening or ironing. Maybe because I was the middle daughter and was subjected to the chores of weeding and ironing my father's work clothes, I've developed no fondness for either one. Freud would have much to say about that!
I've come to the conclusion that my Zen resides inside my mind-computer connection. Spending the better part of today playing computer Majhong and thinking about writing this blog, I've managed to clear my mind and find that serene place inside myself. OK...maybe that's a bit of a stretch but it is progress.
I've often mentioned my sister Nancy, the catalyst behind my becoming a PTFP (part-time Fla. person), and her natural penchant for gardening. As my followers know, gardening to me is more like Chinese water torture than the cathartic, mind-freeing experience that Nancy enjoys. Having a somewhat off-beat sense of humor, I tend to tease Nancy about the "Zen" involved in various activities. Not that I question her ability to achieve Nirvana while up to her elbows in dirt. Quite to the contrary, I sometimes envy her being able to totally lose herself in an activity that reduces stress levels and leaves a calmer mind to continue on with the day-to-day situations we all encounter.
Today dawned a rainy, chilly day in Fla (our common reference to Florida). Temps in the fifties and a steady drizzle set the mood. Whatever thoughts I might have had for visiting parents or shopping or any other outdoor activity quickly vanished as I looked out the window at the damp gray day. After all, part of the lure of being in Fla is not having to do anything if I don't feel like it.
Nancy called earlier today and we discussed our "plans" for the day. We both agreed that there was no necessity to venture out into the damp, cold world. As we talked, Nancy revealed that today she was going to spend the day ironing. Chuckling, I said "Sure you are. Sounds like a thrill a minute to me.". I tend to iron only whatever I'm going to wear on the morning I'm going to wear it. Having spent many an hour ironing as a teenager, permanent press has become one of my best friends. Besides, even if you iron on a regular basis (there is therapy for that compulsion), by the time your clothes hang in the closet for a while, they need at least a touch-up before you put them on...at least in my closet they do.
So as Nancy assured me that she actually enjoyed ironing, I couldn't resist the temptation to make a laughing reference to the Zen of ironing. I can see it all now.....a white cotton shirt, the steam from the iron rising in patterns above the ironing board, that thrill of conquering the wrinkled sleeve...... and yes, losing oneself in the perfect crease.
Once more I admit to not possessing the Zen gene.....gardening or ironing. Maybe because I was the middle daughter and was subjected to the chores of weeding and ironing my father's work clothes, I've developed no fondness for either one. Freud would have much to say about that!
I've come to the conclusion that my Zen resides inside my mind-computer connection. Spending the better part of today playing computer Majhong and thinking about writing this blog, I've managed to clear my mind and find that serene place inside myself. OK...maybe that's a bit of a stretch but it is progress.
