Chores

I really don’t like to do chores. I think it is the repetition that annoys me the most.  The knowing that what I am doing will need to be done again, and again, and again. But, in the barn, as in life chores are commonplace.  Yesterday morning I was in the barn. I had finished feeding all of the animals, and noticed that the portion of the barn where the horses run in and out was a bit of a mess, and since I didn’t have to take my daughter to preschool, I decided to grab my wheel burrow and pick and clean it up.  As I sifted through the sawdust to find the “gems” that lay underneath, I felt a calm come over me.  The day was cold, but I was warm enough. A light snow was falling over the horses as they munched hay in the barn yard a few feet away from me. I could hear the soft cooing of one of the hens laying in the nesting box, and the loud squawks of whoever the rooster had his eyes on.

As I worked through the first few feet of bedding around me, I started to think about how much I hate doing maintenance.  I always have hated it.  Laundry? Yuck. Vacuuming? Blah! Even in my career the parts I couldn’t stand could have been grouped in this category.  Updating reports? Gross. Filing? Double yuck! I always preferred the new, the project, and interaction with team members. Not sitting in my office typing by myself. I believed that my strength was starting new things and once established handing them over to someone else to maintain and monitor them. I was always on the lookout for what was next, what was new.

Even at home, when I was working I loved that I could have my nanny do the repetitive items.  I could come home and the toys would be picked up, the laundry started and the kids bathed. More time for me to start a new craft project or paint a random room in the house. Whatever I could start, that could keep me entertained and productive. I have friends who are awesome at maintenance. They are the friends whose homes are always clean; they even have clean laundry rooms! Not me, barely controlled chaos at all times. Oh how I have envied their ability to keep up with the repetition.

Moving through the space with my pick, I was filling up my wheel burrow when I started to really notice the barn life around me.  By being in the environment, but not working with the animals directly, I could observe them. I could learn about them from a different perspective. The mindless work I was doing, kept me warm, but allowed be to be in the scene. The barn cats played nearby and I noticed how healthy they all are. Several of the hens came and scratched the bedding around me as I cleaned. I appreciated how beautiful they are and how their feathers are so colorful and how dedicated they are to the task of overturning earth in the hopes of finding some unfrozen morsel. They don’t mind the repetitive nature of their daily task. In fact, besides laying and sleeping, this is what they spend the majority of their days doing; everyday!

My mind started to ponder the idea that if I didn’t take the time to do the mundane, I would miss out on the experience of being in a scene, but not directing the scene. I was learning a lot while picking up poop! I was learning that our hen Lemon drop, really likes to sit up on the wheel burrow while I am cleaning. She is very inquisitive and this gives her a great view of what I am doing. I watched our silver aracauna hen sneak into the bunny’s cage and lay her egg in Cinabunbun’s hutch. I witnessed who lays their eggs first and who is more concerned about food.  I watched as the pecking order of the horses played out over the finest morsels of hay. I noticed how the delicate snowflakes seem to just rest on their big furry coats. How beautiful the contrast of this is. I watched the cats investigate the opossum sleeping in the hay and back away after deciding this was not something with which they really wanted to tangle.

All of this made me realize the importance of the mundane, repetitive tasks in my life.  I am a thinker and a doer. These mindless tasks force me to slow down and be an observer. In the house, while folding laundry, I get to hear those sweet moments between the kids. I get to hear my oldest son, help my youngest put a dress on her doll. I get to hear my second son negotiate with his father about the need to have more than 2 hours a day for XBOX. I am able to slow down and witness the voice of my third son talking to himself in his room as he makes art at his desk. When picking up clothes, I learn about what each of my children prefer. What attire they wear most and in doing this, I learn more about them. As I clean out backpacks, I encounter notes of friendship that give me small glances into their worlds.

When I feel that I am continually driven to “just do it” all of the time, I am challenging myself to “just be”. For me, embracing the inevitable tasks of maintenance has opened up a new perspective. I finished cleaning the bedding and took my wheel burrow outside to dump its contents into the manure pile. As I did, I thanked God for teaching me something about life and his wishes for me. He really wants me to be present in each moment of my day. To observe and take in this glorious world that he has placed around me.

Walking back into the barn, I stopped to appreciate the fruit of my labor, the run in was clean, the bedding all soft from its grooming with the rake. I pictured the delight the horses would have later when they came into roll and eventually bed in the barn, on the clean bedding. To rest their weary bodies on the very spot that had enlightened me and filled my soul with gladness for the mundane routines in my life. In recognizing my contribution to their happiness, I felt fulfilled.