Laundry is a chore that reminds us of our shared humanity - no one is immune to the never-ending cycle of dirty clothes and the quest for cleanliness." - Anne Lamott, "Bird by Bird"
Tucked behind the house and a row of lilacs hangs the laundry line. I remember as a kid watching my mom in her wellies and Lanz nightgown sneak-out and hang the sheets in the morning breeze. It was like a choreographed performance, with the sheets fluttering and spinning, and my mom bowing and pinning them up in delight. I could almost hear her singing: “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” from the kitchen window. Clearly, mom could hear the invitation to dance with Mother Nature herself! She'd come back inside beaming with morning light, and with a huge exhilarated smile exclaim: "the sheets smell so good in the fresh air!" And as a kid, I didn't quite get it, but now I’ve discovered the magic of hanging laundry and become hooked on its beauty and impact.
Hanging laundry is not just about cleaning textiles in an eco-friendly way. No, when you hang laundry, you're forced to slow down and be present in the moment. There is no holding on to one’s phone when we wrestle with a sheet in the wind. You've got to unplug, feel the fabric, sense the weight of the wet cloth, and really connect with the natural world around you. And each time you get to assemble the color collage with different items, deciding who gets to dry in the back rows and who takes the stage in the front. It's like curating a fashion show for Mother Nature herself. And if you pay attention she responds in a playful way with the sun teasing your skin, the wind rustling your hair, and the scent of lilacs or dew filling your lungs as it emanates from the earth. It's like a sensory explosion, a nature extravaganza right in your backyard.
And it's more than just a sensory experience. Hanging laundry is a prayer to our loved ones. Each garment carefully pinned and folded, sent out into the world with hopes of bringing comfort, fresh air, and joy to its wearer. It's a silent blessing, a way to spread love and gratitude into the universe, one clothespin at a time.
Hanging laundry is also an act of rebellion against the consumer-driven culture that constantly pushes us to buy more, consume more, and do more. It's a powerful statement that says, "No, I'm not buying into the madness. I'm slowing down, connecting with nature, and taking back my time!" It's a small but mighty protest, a conscious effort to break free from the fast-paced hamster wheel of modern life and embrace a more sustainable approach. It's a way to take care of our belongings, make them last, and contribute to a wellbeing economy.
In the face of the climate crisis, hanging laundry becomes a beacon of hope. It's a reminder that amidst the overwhelming challenges we face, we can find moments of beauty, joy, and connection. It's a statement that we're not giving up on our planet and our children's future. We're choosing to take a step off the merry-go-round of business as usual, intentionally unplugging and taking small steps to change direction and make a difference. So, the next time you hang your laundry, embrace the magic, the rebellion, and the hope. Delight in this small step towards changing direction and helping our children. It's not just about getting your clothes dry; it's about dancing with nature and spreading good intentions through the air.
So, let's remember that when we hang our laundry, we're not just doing chores. We're participating in a sacred ritual, a rebellious act, and a work of art. Let's embrace the dance with Mother Nature, choose the line, and take small steps, one clothespin at a time. It's a simple yet profound way to connect with the world around us, create positive change, and find beauty in the everyday. It’s time to dance!
We can’t control systems or figure them out. But we can dance with them!
— Dana Meadows
Your opening and closing quotations are classic and timely, as is your phrase about getting off the speeding hamster wheel of life. Simon and Garfunkel reminded us to, “slow down, you move too fast. You’ve got to make the morning last.“
Quite a part from the client consciousness aspect of your message, you have once again donate your fantastic job of urging us to reconnect with ourselves in nature, and to take pleasure in the simplest, most mundane tasks.
Thank you, dear Celina, for reminding us what really matters in this world.
Loved this, which brought back more than a few memories. Always the frugal Yankee, my mother air dried the laundry until my brother and I left for college (late 1970's). Only then did they loosen the purse strings and indulge in the unseemly luxury of not only a dryer but a color television set. All that frugality actually served them well - in his final years Dad fell frequently, once into the television set before landing, along with the TV, on top of Mother. If that little television had been any bigger she might not have made it.