A few years ago, we had the great fortune of having both of our progeny decide to move back home to California after spending several years in New Orleans. I like to think that my husband’s and my year-long sojourn in the Crescent City reminded our darlings of just how awesome we, their beloved parents are, and the renaissance of this knowledge drew them home again to bask in our amazingness and affection. I realize they likely had other reasons. Much more grown up reasons. Seeing as how they are all grown up and whatnot. But I shall keep my fantasies, thank you.

Lucky for us, we just so happened to have an extra bedroom plus a full basement “apartment” to serve as a landing pad for all: son, daughter, son-in-law, and new baby grand daughter. A whole entire summer. Together. I shall try to remain calm. YIPPEE-KI-YAAAY WHOOOOOOOT!

At that time, I wrote this little piece about not losing your marbles (apropos for a woman in a house full of personalities whilst in the throes of menopausal angst). Just happened upon it again while digging through my daily pages. Please enjoy:

On Being Mindless

I’ve been wrestling of late with an anxious little sprite and a brooding hulk of a dark lord, nattering doomsayers who sometimes hang about skullside, nail biting, threatening, and pulling on my sleeve in the neediest of ways. I work hard to negotiate these little (and big) mindfuckbuggers, utilizing as many holistic modalities as I can wrangle into my mental wellness toolbox.

One such tool, which you’ve likely heard referred to as mindfulness, is one of my faves. Subtle as a soft breeze, but with the power to vaporize those bandersnatches post haste.

I, however, have adopted a different term for this practice. I have no need to practice mindfulness thank you very much, my mind is already way past full-ness. Instead, I have taken to practicing mind-less ness.

Today, I figured, hey, dishes! As a practice of mind-less ness, I shall empty and load the dishwasher. What a great opportunity to step aside from my mind, enter squarely into my body, and Be Here Now (for Now is all that really exists, yes?).

At first, I’m like, yes dishes. Then, I’m like, oh, I should wait until after the Keakasaurus gets up from her nap (grand daughter: Keatyn, Keaki for short, Keakasaurus for adorable); don’t want to wake her prematurely with all my glass clacking and pot lid symbol crashing and Tupperware drawer-thunder rumbling, plus the occasional spatula kersplunk skitterskidding across the kitchen floor.

All of this innocuous ambient day noise is all well and good at non-nap times, but it has a way of transamplifying and broadcasting through the kitchen floor, down through the basement ceiling, and straight into the little toddlewhomper’s sleeping parlor; which resides just underneath the edge of the kitchen at the border of the breakfast nook. Then, wakey wakey little warbler, and possibly the wrath of tired mommy (!)

This is perfect, this mindless tonic, to help combat mind fullness. It involves entering fully into a thing: a la endeavoring to juggle plates without making a sound.  Mindless, silent, dish-doing…I wonder how long I can keep it up? Well, it depends on how long you want the wee Keaki girl to sleep. I want her to sleep deeply for as long as it takes, as this makes for a delightful munchkin for the rest of the day.

And so, I begin. Ahhhh. The brain squeeze loosens. The feeling of ratcheted focus brings a pulsing sense of relief.

There is nothing else. Only these dishes. Only these spaces where these dishes live. What a blessing. To have clean running water. And soap, and…oh hey, I’m in my head again. Right out of the gate. Ha ha, well. We actually had a full fifteen-second stretch there…not bad…

I shift my focus.

SEE the plates as I pull each from its rubber-coated tines in the dishwasher rack. FEEL the smooth glazed surface of each scalloped edge. HEAR the softly muffled clack as each one is ever so gently stacked upon the next. I must go slowly to endeavor silence. (The trick here—if the goal is to get out of my head—is to NOT describe each of these moments to myself so I can write this piece later…just see and feel and hear without commentary or mind words.) Notice a deep breath. See the plates. Feel their weight. Hear the stack slide into place on the wooden cupboard shelf. Fajitas for dinner. So sweet of Em to remember to take out the tri-tip this morning. Are there any ripe avocados? Fresh cilantro from the herb garden! I forgot to water the herbs! Crap. And to deal with the student loan payment—Avalanche of anxiousness knocks at my back door. I’ll deal with it as soon as I finish the dishes—the dishes! Oh yeah, Be Here Now.

Deep breath.

Dial into the room again. Feel my Self come swooping back into my body.

Coffee cups, upside down, each with a thin pool of water on top (well, bottom actually). How many can I hold without sound? I loop a finger through each of four handles. No thoughts, only action, observation, commentariless motion. No input from the peanut gallery. Shhhhh guys. Shhhh. Deep breaths. In and out. Sweet presence descends again. A swell of gratitude blooms.

The sound of footsteps crunching gravel outside the kitchen window. Tall man. Straw hat. Handsome—he has such a way of Being Here Now—I know, I know, thinking again, but hey. Love the guy! Why can’t I take a moment to appreciate that tall, silver haired, hunka boinin’ junk? Gotta say, he’s still got a way of bringing a tickle. He’d never know it these days from my prickly moods and aloof brooding. So much thinking and fretting and downward sliding into thick, mucky mind-fullness. Curse this hormonal, libido-eating, hornyless, weltschmerzy monster!

Deep breath. I’m back.

SEE the man. FEEL the gratitude. HEAR the crunch, crumble, scraggle as he walks, slowly surveying his garden handiwork, coffee cup in hand. Deep breath.

Be here now.

Add another glass to the rack.

Be mind less.

One of the most powerful remedies I know. Even if it only lasts for a moment, there are so many on which to practice.

I prescribe this to be taken 1000 x daily, or as often as you think of it…then stop thinking of it and come into Now.