Practice

finding nobility in simple practice

And Now, the Classics…

This is an epic moment. For the first time in my life, I’m going to quote Virgil:

Virgil, courtesy Thomas Hawk CC

Even now the countryman actively pushes on to the coming
Year and its tasks; attacking the naked vine with a curved
Pruning knife, he shears and trims it into shape
Be the first to dig the land, the first to wheel off the prunings
For the bonfire, the first to bring your vine-pole under cover;
But the last to gather the vintage…
It makes for hard work.

Why am I, a humble amateur author with a B.S. in Dance, of all things, bringing ancient Greeks to your browser this morning?

It’s kind of a balance, actually. After last week’s talk about flourishing and focus and such, I felt that it’s worth remembering that what you’re doing right now is actually pretty awesome, too. Or at least it could be, if you chose to see it that way.

Mind you, I’m not saying you should. Sometimes the only thing that gets you through that thing you are doing is the release valve of being able to complain about it. That’s how I’ve managed to cultivate an almost-daily yoga practice, after all – by keeping my own inner monologue going (I call it “bitter yoga”).

But the point of Virgil’s poem was to show the simple nobility of the work of the farmers of his time. He was praising the virtue of the simplest task, in the purity of a zenlike monofocus on doing what is necessary because it is necessary.

“The Colour of Hope”

IMG_0865.JPGThe philosopher John Armstrong (from the School of Life) suggests that we can take a similar tack in our own tasks, especially those which we may have a less-than-friendly relationship with. For example, I happen to really dislike working with my finances; even with eight months of detailed monthly reviews and spreadsheets and a much better bottom line, I still procrastinate opening up the file and actually looking at the numbers. Even with cool apps like Mint – which is about as friendly as a financial app can get – I just get uncomfortable dealing with it.

Armstrong suggests perhaps framing it in a Virgil-esque way:

…And take yourself also, as the sun is setting,
To a stationery supplier and get yourself a quantity
Of manila folders, the colour of hope
Dine early and lay all the pieces of paper before you on the carpet.
Divide them, as the Gods divide the just from the unjust
Into two piles. Arrange them by Date. Work slowly.
And when you are done, pour a libation to Apollo,
Who loves clarity and order.

Suddenly opening that spreadsheet becomes the opening of a ritual of the seasons, a festival of finance that occurs once every full moon. It can be accompanied by Bacchanalian music and secret single-origin dark chocolate only opened for these sacred moments…

Or whatever works for you. I’m sure, here as the week begins, you have something going on that seems mundane. That seems tedious and just totally taking time away from the things you want to be doing.

Maybe take a moment and realize that you are the caretaker of your life’s garden, and this is part of the pruning and tending that is necessary for you to grow. Make the tedium into a sacrament for just a moment, a ritual contributing to your quality of life.

Then you can go back to complaining, if you like. But very few complaints are the color of hope.

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