Misery or Samadhi?
When I was a child, I had to practice my accordion for an hour every day. While I loved the sound of the instrument, I found the endless repetition tedious. I wanted to wail with rock ‘n roll songs, or improvise crazy gypsy sounding melodies (perhaps channeling my parents’ mysterious roots.) Sometimes I just sat there, daydreaming and letting my fingers move so that sound was coming out of the accordion. I even devised a way of putting the accordion upside down on the bed, so that if I just moved the bellows, the chords would screech. I’d rock it back and forth with one hand while reading the Wizard of Oz with the other. That worked until one day my father sneaked upstairs and caught me….
Every day, I cook a meal, wash the dishes, weed the garden. Yet it doesn’t feel anything like practicing the accordion. You’d think the endless cycle of battling garden invasions, or chopping vegetables would lose its charm after a while. But something about applying myself to a repetitive physical task has the opposite effect of my accordion years. I’ve thought about it a lot and realized that the big difference is my inner authority. While I am eternally grateful for the discipline imposed on me to learn an instrument, it was my parents’ wish, not something that called me. Cooking, cleaning and gardening have no outer voice of should. I have a choice. I could simply shop for vegetables and flowers. Eat at restaurants and buy take out. Instead, I choose to repeat these tasks, and in the process, renew my curiosity about who and how I am.
Is it Sisyphean, or is it a meditative practice? I know now you can turn anything into a pleasure or a chore. Washing dishes can be an enlightening experience, while going to a party can feel like a chore. As you go about your day, which will it be for you?